Shade Grove
by kuroneko52
Summary: There are many entities that live off of fear, but they never stand up to the Boogeyman for long. When his influence becomes apparent in Germany and only the sleepy little village of Shade Grove shows any sign of immunity, the Guardians investigate. Hopefully this isn't another stab at stomping out childhood hope and belief. PitchxOC, Stitch Witch.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own copyrights to Rise of the Guardians. I just saw the movie once and it was _EPIIIC__._

_NYAA__._

Keep in mind that this is largely derived from the movie and not the book series. However, even then some things have been tweaked – I did try to stay true to the movie.

Nyaa.

**=^'.'^=**

**Chapter 1**

_Once upon a time, in the sleepy little village of Shade Grove, there lived three sisters. They were the daughters of the village's wise women and cunning men, though the three young witches always sought to gain enjoyment from their family powers. They found ways to stay beautiful, nab handsome husbands, and made sure that they never had to do a lot of real work._

_One day, however, their world came crashing down as a rich man, Lord Morose, came to live in Shade Grove. He had a way of crushing the spirits of the villagers, who weren't quite as serious as himself. Before long, even the three sisters found that their powers could no longer give them the things they wanted, so they came up with a plan to get Morose out of their hair._

_They had a fourth sister, much younger than themselves, who they convinced Lord Morose to marry. The youngest didn't want to marry, but the decision was made by her sisters, since their parents were long gone._

_A jealous and secretive man, Lord Morose had a tower built outside of the village, convinced that there were others in the village who would try to steal his bride. He was right; this sister was well-liked by the children of the village, and so she was also well-liked by the parents, who got it into their minds that the gloomy man from the city was mistreating his wife._

_So the villagers tried to storm the tower, but something went terribly wrong. Soon, the entire tower had erupted in flames, taking the lives of everyone inside…_

Stitch Witch perked her head when she heard the far-off whimpers of a child in the middle of the night. One of 'her' children. She took off over the treetops, hopping from one pine to the next as though she were a rogue zephyr.

She was within the little German village of Shade Grove within seconds. A shadow in the night, she twisted and turned in flight, slipping in one of many open windows. Such a trusting little village…

Inside, a messy-haired boy sat up in bed, covering his eyes. The Sandman hadn't come yet; obviously, a bad dream had come of its own accord. She looked around the room and picked up a stuffed horse, which she galloped around the room once she had the boy's attention. He watched with guards up as his toy floated over to him, stopped, and whinnied. He looked just beyond the horse carefully. "S… Stitch Witch…?"

She was sewn into view, banishing her invisibility. The pale, stitched-together young woman with the wild red hair and soot-colored eyes smiled gently at the boy. He looked relieved to see this terror, taking his horse from her and hugging it as she sat beside him on the bed. "Bad dream, Gunter?" she asked softly, arranging his blankets.

He nodded, frowning. "I have to give a speech at school tomorrow…" the shy boy lamented, lying back in his bed.

Stitch Witch tucked him in and ruffled his hair. "Talking in front of people is the worst, isn't it?"

"Yeah… I don't wanna do it…" He looked anxious.

She smiled. "Running from your fears doesn't make them go away." she pointed out. "I should know. I scare kids all the time."

He giggled a little, then looked at something over her shoulder. "…What's that?"

Stitch Witch turned in time to see a golden vapor of sand glide past her head. Her smile quickly returned as she looked back at Gunter. "It's dream sand, silly. It makes sure you'll have _good_ dreams."

"Oh." As the stream tickled his nose, his eyelids grew very heavy, and he yawned. Instantly, he was asleep.

She hummed to herself, watching the boy sleep for a moment, giving Sandy his time to work. As soon as the Guardian of Dreams was gone, she flew from the window, once again nothing but a shadow. She inspected several bedrooms, then took off over the trees again, until she was perched atop her ruined tower. From there, she had a perfect view of the village and much of the dark forest.

For countless years, she had watched over this one village, ever since her resurrection at the unseen hands of the Man in the Moon. The night of the fire had been the last for her as a human. It had also been the last for her husband, although she never bothered to find out where he had gone.

Keeping an eye on Shade Grove, where she had been well-known in her human days, allowed her to gather power without expending too much of it. Shoot; she was probably still riding off of the fear accumulated from the Dark Age! Her forte was scaring children, alright – first she'd scare them, getting the power she needed to survive, and then she'd instantly comfort them.

Other minor fear-based entities like herself had come and gone throughout the years. They always had a habit of looking down their noses at her and her tactics, claiming that the almighty Boogeyman would wipe her off of the map if he ever came across her.

The next time she'd hear of these entities, she only ever got news of how the Boogeyman had destroyed them for think they were anywhere _near_ his level.

That was what set her apart. While she enjoyed scaring the kids, she didn't enjoy tormenting them just to get a little extra power. So, instead of parents telling their kids not to believe in her, they would just reminisce about the days when they also played with the village's 'imaginary' friend; instead of using the Boogeyman to scare children into compliance, they said the Stitch Witch would hide them in her tower and lock them up.

Her tower was much scarier than she was to children. Even the adults believed that Lord Morose's ghost still wandered its halls. Thank goodness for the powerful superstitious beliefs of small villages…

* * *

"We have big problem." North gazed at his globe of lights with a somber frown, burly arms folded over his massive chest.

The Guardians had been called together thanks to dark spot on the globe, which was slowly snuffing out lights. So far, they all seemed to be centered in Germany.

"What's so big about it? It's just one little country." Jack hovered over it for a better look. "Just one of us could fix this problem in a single day!"

"Pitch has tried this before." Tooth flew up to hover next to the Winter Spirit. "He inspired a few of the scarier stories that the Grimm brothers collected."

"He inspired _bedtime stories?_ Wow, you're right. That _is_ bad." Jack smirked lazily, crossing his arms.

"Not the ones that parents read their kids _now."_ Bunnymund quipped, frowning. "She said the _scary_ ones, the ones that usually ended up with someone in pain or dead. Children in Germany are still scared of him in some areas thanks to those stories." Sandy nodded his agreement.

"I see." Jack inspected the country again. "Well, it looks like he hasn't been able to even _touch_ this little bunch of lights here…"

"Shade Grove." North said, not even needing to see where Jack – and now Tooth – was looking. "The children there have always believed _very_ powerfully."

"Why?" Jack looked at them.

They all shrugged. "Dunno." Bunnymund said. "There must be a local entity. Shade Grove is a small place. Always has been. The only time that _that_ bunch of blips went out was during the Dark Ages. It was the first to light back up when we started cleanin' up Pitch's mess – _way_ before other areas."

Jack exchanged looks with Tooth, then gazed back down. Amid the black inkiness of Pitch's influence, the little bundle of lights looked even smaller. "Well… Maybe we should have a look around! I mean, there's got to be a reason Pitch can't touch that village, right? If it's because of a 'local entity' or whatever, they might be in trouble!"

"Jack's right." Tooth agreed.

"Fine. You two go there now." North directed. "We will look at the other places where Pitch has already brought fear to children."

* * *

It was the early morning – so early that the boots crunched against the frost still covering the ground as children walked to the bus. Their school was a few miles away, in another town that was bigger than their sleepy little village.

As a few kids walked past one of the storefronts, a crate rumbled, catching their attention. They stopped, curious. Taking a moment to look at one another with uncertainty, one of them – a girl – finally walked over slowly. She leaned forward carefully.

A black kitty jumped out at her with a soul-stopping yowl. The girl and her friends all jumped back and screamed, then began laughing at one another. The cat purred and rubbed against the girl's legs, as if apologizing. The kids crowded around the animal to give her a few pats on the head.

"Thanks for the wake-up, Stitches!" one of them giggled as they hurried to join the others at the bus stop.

She watched them leave with calm, golden eyes, then darted into the shadows of a gap between buildings. Returning to a more human form, she climbed atop a roof where she could watch the kids pile on their bus and ride away from the village. Away from her. She wasn't worried – there was no fear entity around for several hundred miles.

Still, something made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle and stand on end.

A sound caught her ear, making Stitch Witch look around suspiciously. No one made trees whisper or shadows flicker except _her,_ and she'd eat _dog food_ before she let a strange fear-spreader enter _her_ village and scare _her_ kids! A small knife appeared in one hand, and a sword in the other.

She slithered over to the tree-line to investigate, her piercing eyes gazing further into the foliage than human eyes could. Another sound caught her ears, taking her across the village in the length of a second. Then another, and she was just as quickly atop another roof. When there were no further sounds, her weapons disappeared, and she put a hand on her hip while rubbing her chin. Whoever this was, they were _good…_

Frowning, she suddenly contorted her spine backwards, catching Jack Frost and the Tooth Fairy off-guard in the middle of trying to sneak up on her. Fixing her posture and turning around like a normal person, she said, "If you're going to scare a fear-spreader, you're going to have to be a lot more surprising than that. Now, why are two Guardians in my village?" She pointed between the two of them. "You on a honeymoon or somethin'?"

"What? No, no, nothing like that!" Tooth said with a nervous giggle, blushing.

Jack shook his head. "We're here because Pitch might be closing in on your territory. Be glad it's us and not him that you're talking to."

"Pitch Black?" Stitch Witch looked alert, straightening up. "Why would he come here? Children here don't even _hear_ of the Boogeyman!"

"That could be reason enough for him." Jack grumbled. "He's touchy enough when children stop believing in him because their parents tell them to."

"So I've heard." Stitches' eyes darted in the direction that the bus traveled. Her nerves jumbled. "I have to go."

"Wait!" Tooth yelped, but it was too late; the Witch had vanished. She looked at Jack helplessly. "Should we follow her?"

"No. She'll be back. I mean, she's local, right?"

She nodded quickly, still looking worried. On her shoulder, Baby Tooth squeaked before taking off after their host entity. "Oh…! Stay safe!" Tooth called after her.

"Now, let's have a look around here!" Jack immediately began flying among the buildings, noticing many of the open windows. It was a bit bizarre, considering how it was moving into autumn, and winter after that. A lack of icy dust on the open windows' panes told him that they'd been opened just that morning. "That's weird."

"What? What's weird?" Tooth zipped over to him, looking at the window pane as well.

"All of these open windows…" He looked around a little. "They're all kids' bedroom windows. I guess the kids here like the cold."

"Hm…" Tooth darted into a bedroom and began ransacking it in her fidgety way. She'd pick something up, look at it for all of a nanosecond, then put it back and move on to the next thing.

"Uh… What're you doing?" Jack asked, poking his head in the window.

"Ah-hah! A clue!" Tooth exclaimed, holding up a crayon drawing. "She visits them at night. See?" She handed him the picture, which showed the Witch with a smiling child, handing him a horse, which was also smiling. "I think they do it as an invitation. Some kids do the same thing when they've lost a tooth, so it's easier for my fairies to visit!"

Jack looked at the stuffed horse on the bed, then back at the picture. "But I thought that fear entities like her and Pitch lived off of… you know… _fear."_

**=^-.-^=**

Pitch didn't show up in this chapter, and that sort of makes me sad. Anyone who reads my Danny Phantom fanfic Vlad's Son will probably giggle to see Stitch Witch traipsing about in here. I had a wicked-weird dream about her having three older sisters, and then suddenly everything went movie-verse RotG on me… Which is how I conceived this.

Nyaa.

So, uh… Sorry about that! Nyaha! Really kind of a weird idea, too, considering how many people pair off Pitch with a Halloween entity, and Stitches is more of a… ghost story. Lol. I kicked around the Halloween thought for awhile, actually, but it just didn't seem like her bag.

Nyaa.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rise of the Guardians. Pity. Probably for the best, though.

Nyaa.

**=^-.-^=**

**Chapter 2**

"This is great! Just great! Pitch Black is trying to invade my village. How the heck am I supposed to _sleep_ at night?!" Stitches rambled, pacing around atop her tower's rooftop.

Floating nearby with Tooth, Jack pointed out, "But you _don't_ sleep. Not even at night."

"Of course I don't! I love the night. But that's not the point." Stitch Witch turned to look down at the village. A frown was stuck on her face. "The children of this village love to be scared. If Pitch gets in, he'll suck all the fun out of it!"

The two Guardians looked at eachother. Tooth turned back to Stitches quickly. "So, um, Stitch Witch? How long have you been here? How come we've never met? I've met lots of local entities. Some of them were like you! You know, all scary and stuff." She smiled sheepishly at the last part.

Stitch Witch lowered to sit down on the roof. "That's because I steer clear of you lot. I do the same thing to Cupid and the April Fool." she said, giving Jack and Tooth a flat look. "It's nothing personal. It's just that fear gets a bad rep… No thanks to the big, bad Boogeyman."

"Well, he _is_ sort of a sociopath." Jack pointed out.

"Not as much as he'd like to think he is." Stitches gave a razzberry, sticking out her tongue as her toes kicked to and fro. "I think Sandman's spotted me a couple of times. Doesn't say much, that one." She nodded her head, alerting them to Sandy's presence in the small town. They watched him on his cloud of dream sand. Something about the way the tendrils wisped off of the cloud to visit a child was strangely mesmerizing. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Tooth smiled as a warm feeling bubbled into her chest. She was thinking of the faces of sleeping children, looking so peaceful in their golden dreamlands. "I'm glad that, if he has to show up again, Pitch isn't trying to take over the world. Sandy and the rest of us still get to make children happy."

"Too bad he has to be a pain in _my_ butt." Stitches chuckled and leaned back, sprawled out on the ancient tile. She rubbed her hands over her face. "Ah… Jeez. I was hoping to avoid another Dark Age-recovery. It took me _years_ to get these kids to believe in me instead of the Boogeyman! And then getting them to know I was _nice…"_

"Ah, chill." Jack waved a hand. "We've kicked his butt before. As long as we can get kids to smile, Pitch will never have his second Dark Age."

She started to laugh a little, but sat bolt upright as a sound caught her ears. A child's whimpers of fear. Getting to her feet, she leapt from the rooftop and dashed over the treetops, not alerting the Guardians. She didn't have to; they had heard it, too.

But they couldn't taste fear in the air like she could. In a heartbeat, she had found the right window and slipped inside. A little girl whined in her sleep, hugging her pink teddy bear close. A black horse stomped about over her head, its golden eyes angrily ablaze.

Horrified and strangely enthralled with the spectacle, Stitch Witch walked around the bed, eyes stuck on the nightmare. She brought a hand to her mouth as Jack and Tooth caught up to her. She'd never seen anything like it before.

"Oh, no…" Tooth whispered, looking at the familiar black sand. "It's Pitch."

Stitches backhanded the horse out of existence without warning. A dark look took residence on her face. The child sat bolt upright in bed, at which point she immediately started crying. Stitch Witch yelped and turned the little girl's lamp on. "Maggy, Maggy! It's okay. Did you have a bad dream?" she asked softly, kneeling next to the bed.

The little girl nodded, sniffling. Hugging her bear tightly, she looked at Jack and Tooth with shy eyes. "Wh-Who…?"

"Who do you think, silly girl?" Stitches teased, gently tugging at a lock of black hair. "That's Jack Frost and the Tooth Fairy. You know that."

Maggy stared at them both. "Wow…" she whispered softly.

"That's right, cutie pie!" Tooth grinned, hovering next to the bed as well. "Don't be afraid of a little bad dream. We're here to keep you safe!"

Maggy gazed at Tooth, enchanted with the fairy in the way only a little girl could be. Suddenly she gasped and clambered out of her bed, rushing over to her dresser and grabbing something off of it. Rushing back, Stitches helped her back on her bed so that Maggy could hold out a silver coin to her. "I wanna give you a money, too!"

"It's a chocolate coin." Jack whispered to the puzzled hummingbird fay.

Usually, Tooth wouldn't like such a thing, since too much of any sweet caused cavities, which made the teeth she received yellow and tattered. But she had never been given a gift in return for her job before. She was enamored as she took the coin. "Oh, thank you, Maggy! I'll treasure it forever!" she said, smiling brightly. She didn't care if it was chocolate, silver, or pure diamond inside.

Maggy beamed back at her brightly, then looked at Jack. Tugging on his sleeve, she asked, "Can you make it snow for my birthday? It's in winter!"

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Doesn't sound like a problem at all, buttercup. Now get back to sleep, before your parents wonder who you're talking to."

The little girl gave an excited, muffled squeal, then threw her arms around his neck. She did the same to Tooth and Stitches. "Thank you." she whispered in the Witch's ear.

Stitches smiled, feeling the last sliver of anger melt away as she hugged the girl back. Looking at the two Guardians, she said, "You can go check on the others without me. I'm gonna read this little one a bedtime story, to put her back under."

"Of course!" Tooth waved at Maggy, then grabbed Jack by an arm and pulled him off through the window.

Maggy looked excited as she snuggled into bed, a large tome appearing in Stitch Witch's hand. "Now, as you know, _all_ the stories in the whole, wide world are in this book." Stitches said, adopting a mysterious tone to set the mood. "The beginning of the world; the birth of Santa Claus… Whatever story you want to hear, it's in here, word for word."

"I wanna hear a Jack Frost story!" Maggy whispered, blushing brightly as she smiled, pulling her blankets up to her chin.

Stitches smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye. Someone _obviously_ had a little crush.

* * *

When the light in Maggy's room went out and Stitch Witch came out through the window, Jack and Tooth were just returning. "We didn't find any more Nightmares." Jack said, looking relieved. He quirked an eyebrow. "What's with the book?"

"My story grimoire!" Stitches looked indignant. "Kids _love_ hearing my stories! That's why they actually see _you,_ Frost."

"That _did_ kinda surprise me." he admitted. "So, what…? You tell kids stories, and they let you scare them? Is that how this works?"

"Jack!" Tooth gasped, elbowing him.

Stitches shook her head, laughing at them. "Something like that."

"Come on, we should keep an eye out for North and Bunnymund." Tooth said, gesturing for them to return to the tower. "They should be here soon."

"Eesh, you're all coming out of the woodworks, aren't ya?" Stitches winced. "Are my kids in that much trouble?"

"It's hard to say." Jack told her. "Tooth's right; we should go."

"I'll catch up." Stitches sighed. "I think I'll walk. I need a minute to myself… Not used to visitors."

They nodded and left her. Letting go of the window pane she'd been hanging from, Stitch Witch dropped to the ground and walked into the trees. Another sigh escaped her. Pitch Black, in her village… The thought gave her cold chills in her spine. He had dropped entities much worse than herself: The Bunnyman; Women in White; _Dracula;_ fear-fed things that were honed enough to attack adults as well as children, so long as they believed.

She rubbed her permanently soot-covered eyes, swallowing a miserable groan. She could admit it; she was terrified of Pitch Black. If she wasn't, she'd have to be stupid. Holding onto that fear, she took a minute to really feel it. She drew in a deep breath. The fear gnawed at her, threatening to take over her mind and drive her to madness.

Letting go of her breath, she let go of the fear as well. Stitches shook her arms to get rid of her nerves. She looked up at the purple-blue night sky and its distant, twinkling dots. The dark trees that usually struck fear into humans made her feel safe and protected. Even when she was a human, trees made her feel at home; night was the veil that showed her the true, beautiful face of nature.

That, when paired with the way she had always teased and startled kids, made it no small wonder that she lived on fear.

Something snorted in her ear, and she was bumped between her shoulders. Slowly, she turned and looked into fiery, feral eyes. A Nightmare had snuck up on her, drawn to her in the moments she had allowed herself to feel out her fear. Now it was searching for that fear. The beast huffed, stomping a hoof against the forest floor.

Startled, Stitches quickly caught hold of herself. "You're a lot better at sneaking than those Guardians are…" she whispered. The thought brought her no comfort. She reached out a hand, touching the muzzle of black sand.

The Nightmare's nostrils flared, but it seemed to calm down. This was a fellow creature, after all; she needed fear, the same as itself and its master. It allowed her to drop her hand and take a few steps back. The beast looked around calmly, then reared onto its hind feet, giving a cry, and sprinted off into the forest.

Stitch Witch watched it leave, then made a mad dash for the base of her tower. Bursting through the trees and startling her company, she yelped, "They're here!"

"Whoa!" Bunnymund brought out his boomerangs at her entrance, ready for a fight. Seeing that it was Stitch Witch, and not Pitch, he glared at her and straightened up. He pointed a boomerang at her. "Don't do that!"

Stitches looked up at the Pooka, then at the boomerang being pointed at her face. She scowled and slapped it away. "There are now _life-size Nightmares_ in my trees." she said. "I don't like it."

"You saw another one?" Tooth asked. "When? Just now?!"

Stitch Witch nodded, running a hand through her hair. "It, uh… It snuck up on me." She quickly waved the statement away. "Does this mean Pitch is in my woods, too?!"

"Nightmares are all over Germany right now." North said, patting her on the shoulder.

"And we only saw the one in the village." Jack pointed out. "Still, considering this is the only place he hasn't been able to take over…"

Stitches frowned, but looked up at North hopefully. "But it's not impossible to defeat him, right? I mean, you guys said it yourselves – he tried to take over the world, and you stomped him back underground. Jack and Tooth said as much!"

"At the expense of Easter." Bunnymund grumbled, crossing his arms.

"But at least not Christmas!" North pointed out cheerfully, getting him a dirty look from the giant rabbit. "Listen, Stitch Witch; you maybe should lay low. Pitch destroys his competition. He is merciless! You, maybe, should hide for awhile."

"I don't hide. I lie in wait." Stitch Witch rebuffed, cracking her knuckles. "I'll keep close to my tower, and the village, but I am _not_ just going to sit on my rump and let others do _all_ of the heavy lifting!" She jumped at the stone wall, sticking to it like a bug. "Which reminds me – if you need me, just holler, but do _not_ go in the tower. It'll kill you." With that, she hopped up the side of the structure and disappeared onto the roof.

* * *

Ah, Shade Grove. It had been _years_ since Pitch Black had laid eyes on it.

As ever, the village was still its quaint little self, looking as innocent as a child's fairy tale. He studied it at his leisure through the trees. In all honesty, he absolutely despised the dreadful little town and its simpleton inhabitants. The only reason they had been the first to overcome his reign during the Dark Ages was because they were simply too _stupid_ to be afraid back then.

One of Tooth's miniature fairies flitted about in the moonlight. Pitch gave a tut, sneering. He had expected the Guardians to jump when they saw his influence swallowing Germany. Frankly, he was disappointed in how slowly they had been in reacting. After his attempt at squashing all childhood belief in them, they really should have arrived the moment that he so much as _sneezed_ above the surface.

The sound of hoof-beats told him one of his Nightmares was nearby, and soon a muzzle appeared over his shoulder. He stroked the long snout, a little surprised at how docile it was – usually his pets were wild and frenzied, unless somewhere they particularly liked.

His hand ran over the beast's nose. He frowned as he pulled his hand back, finding a light layer of soot on his fingers.

"So, there's a fear entity here that's caught your fancy, hm?" he asked the Nightmare idly. He got a huff in response. "Well, they're certainly doing a bang-up job of keeping these fools under control. It's probably too much to hope that our… _new friend_ will do much to distract the Guardians, isn't it?"

The black sand horse snorted again, lowering its head to sniff at the earth.

Pitch grimaced at the unusual behavior. "Mm. I see." Let the Guardians do what they wanted. He had no interest in repeating a past failure. Even now, his Nightmares were withdrawing from other cities and towns around Germany. This was just him recharging. No 'dastardly evil plots' or whatever it was they were looking for. There were far more people in this millennium than there had been just a few centuries ago.

Still, it didn't do to have a new fear-entity trying to live off of his platform.

**=^o_o^=**

Dun dun dunnn. Sounds like trouble for Stitch Witch! I could easily see Pitch shredding up other small-town ghost stories when kids scare one another using stories not about the Boogeyman to scare one another. In fact, it's almost _scary_-easy.

Nyaa.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rise of the Guardians, any of the characters, or any of the book rights.

Nyaa.

Also, two updates in one day? What the nyaa? You humans sure are spoiled.

Nyaa.

**=^-n-^=**

**Chapter 3**

Stitch Witch laid on the top of the bus, sprawled out as she looked up at the overcast sky. Within the metal container, children were talking to one another in excitement. So maybe she had toed outside of her promised range by following the kids to school again; at least now she knew how Pitch had managed to get a whole _foot_ in the door of her village.

The kids at the school who weren't from Shade Grove just couldn't stop complaining about the scary dreams that the Boogeyman was giving them. They told the Shade Grove brood about how the Boogeyman hid in the shadows, in closets and under beds, just waiting to scare kids for no reason at all, or – and she loved the adults for this one – because children were _misbehaving._

Honestly! At least _her_ adults just told kids that she would 'pester' them.

As the bus came to a halt outside of the village, Stitches sat up with a groan. Behind the bus, Bunnymund was staring her down with his arms crossed, tapping one of his massive feet. She sighed, puffing a few strands of hair out of her face.

"Ya know, if you're gonna leave _your_ territory, least ya could do is tell someone." he said as she dropped off of the side of the bus.

"It wasn't planned." she replied, as if that excused everything.

He furrowed his brow, nose twitching. "Somethin' happen out there?"

"The kids outside told mine about the Boogeyman." She looked up at him tiredly. "That's how he's weaseling his way in, why he's even bothering with Shade Grove. If the kids here start to believe in him, the power their fear gives him… Well… It'll be a little more of a boost than anywhere else."

"Why's that?"

Stitches thought for a moment. "Same reason you get an energy boost when spring time hits the outback."

"Pitch used to live here, huh?" Bunnymund looked around at the simple little village. The children and adults all looked relatively happy. "Hard to imagine him comin' from a place like this."

"You'd be surprised. I was here at the time. He just had a way of scaring people." Stitches shrugged, but patted Bunnymund on the shoulder and walked off. "I'm going back to my tower. Sorry I took off."

The Easter Bunny shook his head, but hopped off through the trees to continue scouring for Pitch and his Fearlings. By contrast, Stitch Witch scurried up to her treetops, where she perched herself for a moment, staring at her home. It stirred memories in her. Bad memories. Memories that could have been a little sweeter if she hadn't been so young and selfish at the time.

When she was married to Lord Morose, she'd had no decision on the matter. She'd almost destroyed the poor man's house on numerous occasions, and her escape attempts had been somewhat pathetic and childish. She wasn't proud of her past self, but she had long since forgiven herself. After all, even as immortals, entities were humans. Mistakes, accidents and stupid decisions were part of the norm.

Although her norm had involved tying together bed sheets and getting stuck halfway down the tower when the height finally got her.

Stitches slapped a hand against her forehead at the memory, but went about travelling among the treetops to get to her home. Leaping at the tower, she caught onto a window. Before she could start scaling, however, a movement inside caught her attention. It was hard to see within the dark walls; she had lived in a time before electricity, after all.

"Jack?" She climbed in and started looking around. "You better not be in here, Winter Boy! That goes for you, too, Old Man!" They were the only two that she could think of who would enter the tower. Jack was curious, and North was… North.

As she started climbing the steps, her sword and dagger appeared in her hands. She tried to ignore the fact that the walls were covered with mold and incredibly old burn marks that still stood out to her. But even for all of the time that had faded the marks, they were still new and stood out in the peripherals of her vision.

She used her sword to push the topmost door open. This room was in the best shape, but not by much. She still remembered when one of the tower's support beams had caught fire and fallen on the bed. It was hard to forget – she had been under the bed with her husband at the time, hiding from the mob. Neither of them could have foreseen the fire managing to get that high in the building.

Fire was unpredictable that way.

As she wandered further into the room, Stitches' weapons vanished. She was alone. No intruding Guardian or child was here. It was just her and her imagination. Her memories. She cast a sad glance at the remains of her bed. The iron skeleton of it – thought to be sturdy and long-lasting, and therefore expensive at one point – was rusted and had cracked in half, with dark soot swirls below it. She could see where the two of them had been hiding at the time of their demise.

Covering her mouth, Stitch Witch drew in a long breath. She felt breathless and smothered as she unwillingly recalled the smoke inhalation that had rendered them unconscious. The next thing that she remembered after that was sitting on the roof, looking up at the moon as it told her what had happened. It was the first story in her grimoire.

She swallowed the fear, which refused to go down easily.

Something crashed behind her. She turned lazily and glared at the mouse on the moldy old dresser. The tiny creature paid her no mind, instead sniffing the edge of the surface. On the floor beside it were the semi-black shards of a glass vase.

Stitches rolled her eyes and turned, yelping when she found Jack had managed to sneak up on her.

He smiled pleasantly. "Gotcha."

"You punk." She punched him in the arm. "I told you not to come in here!"

"Window was open." He shrugged, nodding towards it. "We couldn't find you in the village or on the tower."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I thought someone was in here." Stitch Witch walked past him, stopping to look at Jack when she reached the window. "Come on. Out."

"Alright, alright." He flew out easily, hovering not far from the wall as his host climbed out behind him. "So, I've been meaning to ask…" He followed her as she hopped up to the roof. "Are you part grasshopper?"

"Frog, actually. Witches and toads and all that noise."

"Right…" Jack shrugged. "Well, I've got some good news for you; turns out that Pitch's Nightmares are disappearing in other parts of Germany. I figure that after a night of Sandy's good dreams and Tooth's fairies working, kids' lights might start showing back up on the map. When they do, though, it's probably _most_ likely to be because of a sudden snow day." He grinned, waving around his shepherd's staff.

"You really get a kick out of being a well-known guy, don't you?" she asked, looking amused.

"Of course! Everyone wants to be recognized, right?" He cocked his head. "I mean, if _you_ were 'well-known', wouldn't you go everywhere and anywhere _just_ because you could?"

"I can do that anyway." Stitches smirked. "I've even visited the Mariana Trench. Deepest part of the ocean; super dark; there are fish down there that humans haven't even _seen_ yet… I think I met Nessie down there, once."

The Guardian of Fun chuckled and shook his head. "Well, I'll probably be around here for the next couple of months. Winter's coming, you know. Just get in touch if you think anything's up concerning Pitch!" He saluted and flew off, conjuring a small snow cloud over Shade Grove before he disappeared through a portal.

She shook her head at his antics. The book wasn't wrong went it claimed him to be eternally young. "He's pretty great. I can see how you got a crush on him, Tooth!" she called over her shoulder.

The fairy gasped and flitted around from the opposite side of the tower. "I do _not_ have a crush on him! How did you know I was there? Huh?"

"Fear entity." Stitches reclined against the rooftop. "Sneaking around is part of my job. Hope you don't wake up any children next time you're out collecting teeth." She grinned cockily.

"I am _so_ sneakier than you!" Tooth huffed. She looked at Baby Tooth, uncertain. "Right?" The little fairy nodded. "Ha! See?!"

"Practice don't beat natural talent, kiddo." Stitches leaned forward, looking a little kinder. "Seriously though, Tooth. You and the others visit whenever you want. The kids love hearing stories about you guys."

Tooth beamed at her. "I just might do that! I loved Maggy. She was so sweet."

"Yeah; Maggy has that kind of effect on people."

* * *

Night fell just as beautifully as it always had over Shade Grove; Pitch couldn't deny that. The stars twinkled in a clear sky not commonly found anymore. He could see why a fellow fear-fed spirit would take up residence there. Under different circumstances, he may have, too.

The Guardians had left. Not before antagonizing his Nightmares and Jack showing off with his little mid-autumn snowfall show, of course, but all that mattered was that they were gone. Now he could deal with his little mimic problem uninterrupted.

But first he had someplace special that he wanted to visit.

The villagers, Pitch had noticed, gave the burned-out tower near their home a wide berth. What few words he heard about it gave him the information that he needed. They still believed it to be haunted by its former master, in spite of the tragedy having happened countless generations before their own time. That suited him just fine. He could work on that little bit of fear to force his unseen opponent into disbelief, and then crush them like a bug.

He found that the ground floor was the worst. If any of the humans _had_ managed to get through the collapsed doorway, there were still enough charred, aged remains to properly give the room the label of 'death trap'. Old metal decorations, once considered very upscale, had been burned and worn down to points, and now hung on the wall as if waiting for someone to fall on. Some even littered the floor, hazardous if stepped on. Even the rodents were careful as they navigated their way through the mess.

The second floor was similar, although less touched by the fire. Instead, its dangers were caused by time. Spiders had spun their webs, torn them down, and even put up replacements many times over. He looked up at the beams of the ceiling. Mosses and mold had claimed the wood and worn it down. How the building was still standing with such a poorly-supported base was nothing short of miraculous and confounding.

Pitch walked over to some silver plates that had been set out the night of the fire. Dust was caked on in thick layers. He actually couldn't see a reflection when looking at them.

He moved on, entering the third and final floor. The tower's bedroom left a bitter taste in his mouth as he looked at what time and the fire had done to it. The burned-away bed; the fallen and equally burned-away beam; the decorations of the room had either succumbed to flames or gravity.

He used his foot to scrape a mess of glass from a fallen vase under the dresser by the door before venturing further inside.

Turning a slow 180-degrees, his face betrayed a painful grimace. Oh, Pitch hated this place. It only reminded him of his final days as a human, before becoming the first entity that the Man in the Moon created. He recalled his confusion. How isolated he had felt after those foolish villagers had destroyed his home! When he had been given his powers, the first thing that he remembered of his new life as an immortal was wandering through the dark trees, alone and feeling as if his very soul had been ripped out.

In the back of his mind, he wondered how vengefully the Guardians would hunt him down if he tried to wipe Shade Grove from the face of the Earth.

Something began thumping around on the roof. Pitch looked up, eyebrows knitting together. There was a muffled, young voice shouting as it moved towards the wall: "Dangit, Ice Boy! How many times do I have to tell you?! You _can't_ sneak up on a fear-creature and you _aren't_ allowed in my tower! Now take your ice staff thingamajig and get – "

A short young woman with vibrant, red hair and alabaster skin came swinging in ready to fight, with a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. Her brown leather boots, white pants, red tunic and black vest were from the days when fairy tales were believable. But it was her face that struck him. That clenched jaw, with its childish cheeks and dark, gray eyes; even when covered with a permanent stripe of soot, he recognized her.

And she, apparently, recognized him, freezing as soon as she looked into those yellow eyes.

" – out?"

Pitch narrowed his eyes at her, bringing his hands together. Tapping his fingertips against one another, he finally managed to say, "Hello, Ashley."

**=^o.o^=**

Zomg! Face-to-face meeting! Not that I love to torment my own characters or anything, but my money's on Pitch if this thing turns into a brawl. Just sayin'.

Nyaa.

Anyway – how will this turn out?! And just after the Guardians left, too! Oh noes! Whatever will Stitch Witch do?! *coughcoughplanneditcough*

*coughnyaacough*

=^-.-^=;;


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rise of the Guardians.

Pitch fight ahead!

Nyaa!

**=^nwn^=**

**Chapter 4**

Stitch Witch quickly recovered with a shake of her head. Making sure to keep her weapons at the ready, her eyes hardened. "Why are you here, Pitch?"

"Why, I was just recharging my batteries. I'm sure you've heard all about my last adventure." the Nightmare King replied with a bored tone. He cast her a glance. "And what about you? How long have you been here?"

A knot wrapped her stomach up. Guilt. "Not long after the fire." she muttered, then quickly cleared her throat. "Look; this isn't about me! Why are you going after my kids?!"

"_Your_ kids?!" In a strange flash-fire of darkness, Pitch was in her face, snarling menacingly. She yelped and jumped backwards, back knocking against a wall. Stitches didn't dare blink before him. It was like staring down a junkyard dog. Or a black mamba. He studied her for a moment. A weird smile twisted his lips, and a dry chuckle escaped him. "So _you're_ the so-called 'fear entity' that lingers here, are you? Well, I must say, that _certainly_ explains my presence, doesn't it? Seeing as you and I would have died at the same time…" He ceased his mocking long enough to scoff at her. "Pathetic."

She winced a little. But, then, she supposed that she deserved it. "Fine, then. If this is about the past, then let's just have at it."

He smirked at her. "You think that _you_ could stand a chance against _me?_ Your sense of humor certainly hasn't evolved very much, my _dear."_

"What? Isn't it what you want?" If he was going to taunt, she would give him the same medicine. Women were normally more skilled in the guilt and egg on arenas, right? Never mind that neither of them were particularly _normal_ anymore… And he had always been a little better with words and the darker half of a person's psyche… "After all, I was the one who didn't want to marry you. What's an Englishman even doing in a German backwoods village, anyway? Were you hoping for a new life?"

"Enough." Pitch growled, turning his head slightly.

Well, at least she'd managed to strike a chord. "Well, you certainly got that _new life, _didn't you? Now you get to be an amped-up version of what you always were: A man who was good at scaring children through _sheer physical presence!"_

"I said enough!" The blurry of shadows flew at her again, crashing into her middle and propelling her up to the ceiling, where she was dropped to the floor.

She grunted and rolled over. Pitch was glaring down at her from the shadows of the ceiling. Stitch Witch grunted again and rubbed her eyes. Her back popped in a couple of places as she sat up.

"You always did have a way of pushing things a bit far." he spat.

"You're the one who wants to fight." She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering how many seconds she had left to exist. "Admit it."

"I do want to fight. But you could hardly provide such a fight for me or anyone else, now, could you?" He smiled maliciously at her. "Oh, yes, you have your shiny little playthings, and maybe you're good at looking the part of the deranged wild child from time to time, but in the end _I_ am the one who incites the fear and _you_ are just another one who tries to run away."

Stitches growled and darted up at Pitch, who retaliated in kind. To anyone else's eyes they were just two clouds of black substance – smoke and sand flying at one another. Any creature who fed off of fear would recognize the fight, however, and not just the brief images of two humanoids trying to strangle or stab one another. They were at one another's throats.

The Witch broke away before he did, landing on the window ledge. She was no match for the Boogeyman. They both knew it. Whose life was really at stake here, anyway?

She heard horses down below. Recognition must have shown up on her face, because he was soon smiling cruelly at her. "You know what they are, don't you? You've met one of my Nightmares already." The smile grew a little. "They've even attacked _me_ before."

She felt one of her heels start bouncing with agitated fear. "Well… maybe I'll have better luck with them, then."

Letting go of the side of the window, Stitch Witch felt herself plummet to the earth. It felt somewhat surreal – she'd never been able to truly fly before – and it felt somewhat horrible – she _had_ fallen from the tower like this before. The first night she discovered what she could do.

Life was sort of funny like that.

A Nightmare whinnied just below her. She kicked off of the wall and into the tree line. As soon as she was in the trees, she was safe. Not just because of the darkness, but because there she had plenty of objects to ricochet from.

She had to get out of here. She had to tell the Guardians that Pitch _was_ in Shade Grove, and he would certainly try to harm her kids. She needed to find one of them.

Stitch Witch stopped just beyond the village, finding herself on a treetop, looking down at it. If she left, who would protect them? He would scare them now just as he had back then. There wouldn't be any opposition or distraction if she disappeared for even a moment.

She cursed and kicked her heel across the ground, spraying dirt everywhere. There was a snort and something rested against her shoulder. She turned and gave the golden-eyed Nightmare a hard look. So, they hadn't had a hard time keeping up with her at all. That made her feel _so_ much better.

It lifted his head and took a step back, nudging her shoulder with its nose. What an odd beast! "Why aren't you ripping me apart right now?" she asked it warily.

The Nightmare pointed its ears forward as if it understood her. Its nostrils flared and it took a few steps towards her. It smelled her fear, but something was strange about it. The beast paused, thinking. Stitch Witch felt on edge.

Suddenly it reared onto its hind legs, neighing at her. She leapt up onto a rooftop, then thought better of it and darted back to the ground. No, she couldn't lead the whole mess of them to the kids. These were Pitch's creatures. They would leave these children jumping at their own shadows.

She wove through the trees like a snake, trying to make sure that she was just _barely_ visible. Stitches was sure that Pitch would see right through her plan; she could only pray that his Nightmares were a little more base. It took a bit of focus to keep her fear at the forefront of her mind and _not_ listen to instinct regarding it. Instinct told her to find numbers, be it one of the Big Five or the village. There was security in numbers. She could shield herself better that way.

When she could take it no longer, she shot up a tree and sat at its tippy-top, making the tree bow a little. She stared at the creatures below, watching her. Their eyes were more like those of _wolves_ than of horses.

Stitch Witch felt a tickle go up her spine. "Impressive."

Jumping at Pitch's voice, she jabbed backwards, her dagger appearing in her hands. All she caught was a wisp of black sand. She stared at deliriously. It mocked her as it vanished.

He reappeared behind her. "Almost."

She yelled, this time swinging backwards with her sword hand. Again, all she caught was a flurry of sand before it disappeared. But now she was privy to this game. She quickly turned with a cry of rage, again and again, each time catching just the faintest glimpse of his fading face and a barely-there chuckle in her ear.

After a moment she stopped, dizzy and realizing that he wasn't reappearing anymore. Her dark eyes were wide, the whites of them visible among the streak of soot. She had always known what crazy felt like, but this… this was a tad much even for her…

A hand pushed her off of the tree, face-first. Pitch leaned over, amused with himself as she screamed.

Stitch Witch barely managed to twist in the air, landing on her side instead of her face when she hit the forest floor. For a moment, all that existed was the bottom. Her mind clawed to catch up with her, reminding her of the horses, reminding her of what would happen if she failed.

Eyes popping open, she scrambled to her feet and looked around at the pairs of yellow eyes glaring at her. She backed up against the tree, holding onto it for dear life yet lacking the strength to propel herself up its trunk. Pitch would just knock her down again, anyway.

Her fear rolled over on her, having taken its course. A calm fell over her. She had this coming. She had been nice to kids in her life, and that was how she had earned her semi-immortal status. But she wasn't as nice to certain adults, and that wasn't reserved to the man about to drown her in terror; she had hated her sisters with everything she had. Loved them, yes, but hated them for never noticing her except for when she served as a solution to their 'problem'.

She closed her eyes for a minute, drawing in what would surely be her last breath, then opened them for what would surely be her last vision.

One of the Nightmares stopped and lifted its head, backing up. Soon the others did as well. They looked at eachother, puzzled. A few began rearing and whinnying. They had no right to be confused; _she_ was the one wondering why she wasn't afraid of _air_ at the moment.

"I can face what _I_ am." Stitch Witch jumped as Pitch appeared in front of her in a cloud of black sand. He tilted his head at her. "Can you face what you are?"

"I know what I am." she murmured, trying to ignore the point that he was trying to make.

"Then you know that people like us can _never_ coexist among people like the villagers or the Guardians. Not without sacrificing our true potential." He looked down at her sharply. "Perhaps you can play nice with them for a time, but then what? They grow up. They stop believing. Some of them even go away and never give you a second thought or pass on your name to their children. Places like this are disappearing. You won't last much longer. Think about it, Ashley. You used to be a tad more clever and imaginative than this."

She winced and gave him a dirty look. He didn't need to tell her about the effects of globalization. "My name is Stitch Witch, not… that." Her eyes felt like they were burning. She hoped it was because of her determination.

"Isn't it? Stitch Witch is just a title. Mine is the Boogeyman. Not exactly flattering, is it?" He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Stop letting yourself be like this. It's less than what you are. It's less than what you _could_ be! Open your eyes. Creatures like us don't get a cherished spot in childhood memories. How many of the children that _left_ Shade Grove remembered you for very long?"

The Witch swiped at her eyes. She was crying. She hated crying. She _never_ cried. Lowering the hand from her eyes to her mouth she hissed, "It could be different. _I_ am different. Fear may be what I live on, but I don't have to be the villain. I…" She felt a pained shudder jolt through her curled forward. "I can't do that. Not to these kids. I could never do that, Pitch."

"Then you don't have to." he whispered, drawing her into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her slowly, his other hand resting on her hair. "There are other kids, many others. And there is always a new way to show them what fear truly means."

He certainly hadn't lost his silvery tongue.

She looked up at him, trying to wipe a stream from her cheek. "Do you really think that _I_ could do something like that to a child?"

Pitch smiled, wiping one of her eyes with a thumb. "You're an embodiment that lives on fear. Of course you can. You just haven't practiced properly, that's all."

Ashley burrowed herself into his chest again.

She bit her lower lip, hoping that her plan would work.

* * *

Tooth squealed in excitement as she zipped through the sky. It was a few days after the Guardians and Pitch had withdrawn from Germany and Shade Grove. She hoped that Stitch Witch wouldn't be mad at her visiting so soon. The Witch _had_ extended the invitation after all, and Tooth was the only female Guardian. Plus Stitch Witch was so different from herself! It was exciting!

"Stitches?" she called, poking around the village. Things seemed a little different. The humans were still cheerful, but seemed a little… not as happy as before. They were more relaxed and less lively.

How strange.

"Tooth Fairy!" She heard a happy voice and turned to see Maggy waving at her.

"Hi, Maggy!" Tooth darted down to her, smiling as she knelt down, her feet never touching the ground. "I'm looking for Stitch Witch. Do you know where she is?"

Maggy's already weak smile turned to a frown. She ran up to the fairy and grabbed her hands, burying her face in them. She was crying.

Tooth was immediately worried. "Maggy, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Stitch Witch is gone." the little girl murmured sadly. She looked up at the beautiful hummingbird fay. "She disappeared when the bad man went away."

"B…" The Guardian of Memories swallowed hard. "Bad man…? What did he look like? Where did you see him?"

"He was in my closet when I had a scary dream." Maggy whimpered a little at the memory. "He was all dark, and his eyes were weird and yellow. Did he hurt Stitch Witch…?"

Tooth ran a hand through the girl's hair. "Don't worry, Maggy. I'll find out."

Quick as a whip, the fairy sailed through the air to Stitches' tower. "Stitches?! Stitch! Stitch Witch!" She looked all around the rooftop a few times – in case Stitch Witch was playing a game – before carefully poking her head into the top story window. It smelled odd inside, like sulfur and smoke.

She noticed a black substance on the floor. Reaching out to touch it, she picked a pinch of it up and rubbed her fingers, letting it slide into her palm. Baby Tooth squeaked, landing on Tooth's fingertips and looking back and forth between her mama fairy and the black grains.

Tooth's worry grew. "Oh, no…"

It was black sand.

**=^ono^=**

Oh noes! Stitches is gone, and now Tooth is freaking out! Well, gonna freak out. She's so energetic. I adored her in the movie – she totally needed a gal pal as the only female Guardian, lol. I don't think she minds too much though; what's not to love about those crazy guys she hangs out with? Jack and Bunnymund's argument's provide _hours_ of entertainment!

Nyaa!

Pitch and Ash. Two things made of fire. I actually didn't plan that one. Anyway, plotting against the Boogeyman seriously can't be good for anyone's health. And I do mean anyone. But, that chapter is coming up. Fear creatures like to scrap it out sometimes.

Nyaa.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rise of the Guardians. Not a single pretty pixel of it.

*sigh* Nyaa.

**=^-.-^=**

**Chapter 5**

Stitch Witch hopped from one cage to the next, examining the huge cavern that was Pitch's lair. Many of the cages, she noticed, had familiar iridescent feathers on their floors. Tooth's mini fairies, she presumed. Among their kind, Pitch's theft of all the teeth had been huge news. Even isolated small-town folk like herself had caught wind of it.

She looked at a large crack in the cavern ceiling, where a small amount of sunlight filtered in. The shadows of the hanging cages and stalactites were strange-looking cast among the bridges and stairways below. She didn't mind shadows, but there were no dark trees here, nor midnight sky with a moon and twinkling stars.

The thought of trees returned her mind to Shade Grove. She hoped that the kids were doing alright without her around to pop in on them. She hoped that their parents were okay as well. By keeping the children entertained and lively, she kept the adults equally entertained when their boys and girls told stories about the things they'd done that day or even just the stories they had heard from her grimoire. She was no Guardian, but she was an important part of Shade Grove's folklore.

Not that she'd say that out loud, considering where she was.

A movement caught her eye and she looked down at Pitch, who seemed to be thinking as he stared at the large globe he kept. The lights dotting each continent caused his contemplative look to deepen.

In a vapor of smoke, Ashley had perched herself atop the globe. "You're plotting something, aren't you?"

He glanced up at her, smiling. "Is it that obvious?"

She frowned, looking down at the lights closest to her. Many of these kids had never heard of her.

"It's horrible, isn't it?" Pitch asked, suddenly standing beside where she knelt. "All of those little believers, and entities like us are the only ones that their parents encourage them _not_ to believe in. And for what? Just being what we are, surviving the best way we know how."

"And that system has never failed you?" Ashley peered up at him. "This business of mercilessly terrorizing children?"

He chuckled and shook his head at her. "It may be hard for you to understand after all of your time spent comforting children rather than frightening them, but once you've discovered your true gifts, you'll learn."

She did little to hide her doubt, looking around at the lights once again. He had always been ambitious. It had once blinded him to how much he had hurt others. Did he just not care now? She had to wonder why the Man in the Moon would save her if it meant saving Pitch from the fire as well. It was nothing against what the man had been, but rather what he had become; surely her interactions with children hadn't been _that_ spectacular.

Ashley felt him touch her shoulder and turned her head a little as Pitch crouched next to her. "Just give it a chance. You'll see."

There was a faint desperation in his voice that surprised her. She found herself pretending not to notice, protecting his pride as an icon of fear. "I'll try." she whispered, her fingers touching a dot of light. And she would try.

She would try to undo some of his work after she saw his process.

* * *

"Black sand…"

At North's workshop, the Guardians were crowded around the dust in Tooth's hand. They shared troubled looks with one another.

"If Pitch is still using that trick after his own Nightmares attacked him, he poses a worse threat than before." Bunnymund grumbled, backing up. "We ought to look for 'im, before he gets too much footing."

"It might be a little late for that." Jack scratched the back of his neck. "I looked, but the bed and tunnel near Burgess is gone."

"Poor Stitch Witch." Tooth sighed sadly. "It's one thing when Pitch destroys a fear embodiment that's evil to children, but she wasn't. Poor Maggy…"

Jack frowned as Baby Tooth tried to comfort her. He didn't like to see any of his new friends in pain, but with Tooth, it particularly rubbed him the wrong way. She was so innocent and friendly. "Well… Maybe there's a chance that she's still around." he suggested weakly. "I mean, we _were_ helping her. Maybe Pitch noticed _we_ weren't fighting her and he tried kidnapping her as bait or something!"

Sandy nodded his agreement, patting Tooth's hand. There was a glimmer of a chance.

The Guardian of Hope gave a tut. "We can wish, but I don't know if I'd rather be dead, or Pitch's captive, to tell ya the truth." He rubbed his fuzzy chin as a thought occurred to him. "…Actually, Jack makes a good point."

The others gave him a surprised look, especially Jack. "What… seriously?" Tooth elbowed him in the side. "Ow!"

"Yeah. Somethin' Stitch Witch said about Pitch the same day we finally pulled outta there." Bunnymund recalled. "She said that Boogeyman was from Shade Grove. Might be why she didn't want us goin' in the tower. It was probably his place, seein' how the humans avoided it like the plague."

"Then we should investigate for clues!" North bellowed, jabbing a finger in the air. "We will go back to Shade Grove and find out where Pitch has taken Stitch Witch, and be back in time for milk and cookies. Hopefully not one partially eaten by _elves_ this time." He shot some of his elves a look. The little creatures laughed nervously before scurrying to a hiding spot. One simply covered his eyes and peeked through his fingers.

"We, uh… We're gonna take my tunnels this time, right?" Bunnymund asked.

North laughed heartily at him. "Bunny – of course not! We will take the sleigh."

"Yeah, _Bunny."_ Jack patted his friend on the shoulder, grinning evilly. "We'll take the sleigh. Your _favorite."_

"Back off, Snow Sprite, before I knock ya in the teeth."

* * *

They arrived back at Shade Grove under the cover of night, landing the sleigh next to the tower. It seemed strange, standing there without its sentinel topper watching the village.

Bunnymund was the first atop the front steps, but quickly found his way blocked by the remnants of the fallen doorframe. Sandy merely turned into wisps of sand and was instantly inside. He beamed at the disgruntled Pooka.

"Stand back, everyone." he said, waving an arm. Raising one of his giant feet, he gave a couple of good kicks. The beams allowed themselves to be knocked away.

The Guardians entered carefully, a little more so after they saw the potential dangers that their surrounding environment posed. The old, charred remains of the furniture inside were in surprisingly good shape, considering what they'd been through and how long they'd sat there.

"I don't know if this place is going to have any clues, North." Tooth said softly. She frowned a little. She didn't feel right being in the tower after its keeper had told them not to.

"Keep an eye out, Tooth." the gruff-voiced Guardian replied. "If there is chance to save our new friend, it is here. I feel it in my belly." He patted his gut for emphasis.

Sandy padded up the stairs ahead of them, looking around while they chatted over minor speculations. The remains on the second floor, after all, were a little less charred, which he was quick to notice. If there were any clues, it would be here.

Or – he thought to himself as he spotted a second fleet of stairs – on the floor above, even.

He scampered towards them when something caught the corner of his eye. Immediately, the eldest Guardian jumped back, whips appearing in hand as he gave a few warning snaps at Pitch. The golden sands illuminated the mossy stone wall around the fireplace mantle. Sandy froze for a minute, perplexed.

Taking a few steps forward, the sandy whips became a single lantern, adding to his natural golden glow. Sandy raised it to the partially blackened painting that had Pitch's face on it. His eyes widened. So the Nightmare King _had_ come from the peaceful little village.

He looked at the shy woman beside the man in the painting. Stitch Witch, back when she was a mortal being. She had had auburn hair, a little more brown than the fire engine red that it had become, and her eyes were blue.

Sandy looked towards the stairs leading up and hurried towards them again, uninterrupted this time. Upstairs was the bedroom, where he could easily read the fight that had transpired by the swirls of black sand and ash that swirled around on the floor. He frowned, tapping a finger against his lips, then moved on to the dresser. The mirror that used to sit upon it was long gone, but there was a little box upon it. It had no dust.

Lantern now hovering beside him, Sandy picked up the box curiously. He traced the little pentagram atop it and opened the box. Inside were little trinkets: drawings, feathers, pebbles and dried plants. This was how humans kept memories in the days before Tooth had become a Guardian, when Nature was the religion of people unanimously. They found and kept things that reminded them of events or people. Stitch Witch kept quite a collection.

"Sandy!" The other Guardians had made it to the second floor. "Sandy, did you see this?!"

He sighed, frowning a little. Holding the box close, he turned, where he saw the burned remains of the bed. He recognized the imprints of absent bodies beneath.

"Stitch Witch and Pitch Black." Bunnymund was muttering. His arms were crossed and he was frowning deeply. "That's about as believable as Pitch Black having lived here in the first place."

"Before it looked like this, anyway." Jack looked around in time to see their friend rejoin them. "Find anything?"

Sandy nodded, walking over. He held out the little wooden box to Tooth. After all, she was the proper Guardian to hold onto it.

"Is that…?" Tooth took the box gingerly and opened it, looking inside. "It's her memories!"

"I thought _you_ had her memories." Jack piped.

"Pitch is older than all of us. His Dark Age is why Sandy became a Guardian, since he taught children to dream of better things." Bunnymund explained, standing next to the Sandman. "To become what we are, the Man in the Moon gives us our powers either while we are still alive, or right before death can grab hold of us. If Stitches was alive when Pitch was alive, then that means that she's almost as old as he is."

"Bunny's right. This is how humans kept their memories before my fairies and I started to collect and keep them." Tooth touched the different objects inside. "The objects were only as important as the memories they held. It wasn't very efficient because sometimes a human would grow fond of collecting certain objects, and it would become a hobby instead. That might be what's happened here; there are a lot of objects…"

"Then it looks like we've come to a dead end." Bunnymund threw his arms up. "Besides, if they _were_ married back then, how do we know she was even kidnapped? Maybe she was even working with him the whole time!"

"No, no, no." North shook his head, waving a hand. "If they were working together, Shade Grove would have been like everywhere else in Germany. Stitches kept her children safe, even knowing who she was up against. She was brave! If Pitch has her, she is _still_ keeping her children safe." He nodded. "You will see. We will find a way to get to Pitch and we will help Stitch Witch."

Sandy suddenly started bouncing around, waving his hands. He pointed to the stairway and ran back up to the bedroom. When the others climbed the stairs as well, he pointed at the iron bedframe with urgency.

Bunnymund expected the traces beneath. "Now we know why the Boogeyman hides under beds. Looks like they were tryin' to keep safe from the fire that caught this place." He picked up the foot half of the frame, which had long since rusted and broken away from the head. "Maybe this can be used to make a portal."

Sandy nodded, looking proud of himself.

"How?" Jack looked at North. "You got a snow globe leading to Pitch's lair or something?"

"Not exactly." North stroked his beard, picking up the other half of the iron bedframe. "But if this was where Manny turned them into entities, then maybe it can lead to him, even if only one time. I will fix it at my workshop. We will find somewhere where a portal can be made – probably somewhere where Pitch has been recently."

"Sounds like anywhere in Germany."

"Hm-mm." North shook his head. "More recent; we need the trail to be as fresh as possible! That will give us the best chance."

"Then the fairies and I will keep an eye out while we're collecting teeth!" Tooth declared. Sandy tugged on some of her feathers. "And Sandy will be able to look every night, too! After all, Pitch targets his dream sand!" The two Guardians smiled at eachother.

"I'll be able to look around, too." Bunnymund said. "Luckily, this time Pitch isn't causin' a ruckus during Easter. No one's better at findin' a trail than me."

"And my yetis will keep an eye on the globe while I work." North nodded, then looked at Jack. "And you?"

"Hey, it's almost an equinox!" Jack shrugged, smirking. "I can be just about anywhere I wanna be right now."

* * *

Ashley swirled among a few rooftops, fascinated by the strange architecture. New and old buildings were practically rubbing elbows with one another. A few trees reached their branches out and towards the sky, and a flat-topped mountain could be seen in the distance.

Japan was still beautiful in spite of its 'development' since her last visit.

She heard a child cry out and reacted on reflex. Hurrying to the correct window, she pushed it open and tumbled into the room in time to see the final moments of a golden dream turning into a silvery-black nightmare. Pitch watched both the now-twisted dream and its frightened occupant with a calm sense of peace.

Ashley started forward, reaching out to the child. The scaring was done – now was the time to stop it, before it turned sour! Pitch caught her wrist, stopping her. He shook his head. "Do not interfere. For us, this is a good thing."

"But… he's…" She looked at the child helplessly as another whimper escaped him. He began tossing and turning.

"He will wake up eventually." Still holding her wrist, Pitch pulled Ashley towards the portal hidden in the shadows of the closet. "Come along. We're done here."

"I…" Her thoughts bounded through her brain. "I wanted to see more of Japan. The Mariana Trench isn't far from here!"

"The what?" he asked, giving her a quizzical look.

"The Mariana Trench. It's the deepest, darkest part of the ocean." Ashley pointed towards the window. "Let me get a map from one of the stores. I don't remember the exact location."

He regarded her for a moment, looking blatantly suspicious of her motives. "If you take too long, I will come back. If I do not find you here, the next place I look is Germany."

She nodded. "I'll be back."

Pitch frowned, then disappeared through the portal, which quickly shrunk. Ashley darted over to the boy's bookshelf, stealing the world map with the thin layer of dust on it. Then she moved to the boy's bedside, sitting on it as her grimoire appeared.

She narrowed her eyes at the bad dream stirring around his head. "…I think a light ghost story should help turn this dream back to rights…" she murmured, stroking the boy's cheek. He cringed a little at her touch, but quickly relaxed and sighed in his sleep.

Stitch Witch opened her book, placed the map in it, and started to read.

**=^nwn^=**

Sneaky li'l Stitch Witch! Wonder how long she can keep this up? Pitch is kind of a ninja master when it comes to sneaking, after all. Hmmm!

Nyaa!

Looks like Bunny doesn't trust Stitches, but that's cuz he seems to be the one pointing out the options others desperately want to ignore, or just don't think is important. I mean, honestly – they only knew her a few days, and when Pitch was pulling his 'recharge' stunt, no less. Then she goes missing after the Guardians leave? Good reasons to be suspicious. Like I said, I like to harass characters. It gets me into trouble, honestly; I'm unrelenting.

Nyaa.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rise of the Guardians copyrights, just fanrights. I have the right to be a fan and come up with odd little tales that nobody pays to read, which ensures that I remain poor.

Nyaa.

**=^-.-^=;;**

**Chapter 6**

"120 times bigger than the Grand Canyon, almost a mile deeper than the height of _Mount Everest…"_ Ashley leaned over the underwater cliff she was standing on. _"This_ is the Mariana Trench. Sunlight can't even _touch_ the bottom of it."

"Impressive." Pitch was looking over the side as well. "I've never thought to explore underwater before. How did _you_ find this place?"

"Not long after transforming, I set out to find what I called the 'heartbeat of the Earth'. It's impossible to describe, but being so much deeper in the planet certainly fulfilled the desire." Ashley said, now standing on her toes. "The trench is made by two tectonic plates crashing against one another. One is pushed beneath the other into the magma below. I thought I met the Kraken down there once."

He gave her a strange look. "Did you?"

"No. It was just a giant squid." She rolled back onto her heels, then stuck out one foot and sank down into the darkness below.

Pitch followed. He couldn't pass up an opportunity like this. The more that their kind was surrounded in darkness, the less they felt the hunger for fear. The greater the darkness, the longer they felt slated. It wasn't power, but sometimes a little quantity over quality didn't hurt.

Miles down, Ashley finally stopped on one of the ledges that stood out. She looked around as Pitch landed beside her. He breathed in deeply, garnering her to look at him. He had a pleasant smile on his face. "Do you hear that?" he asked.

She laughed a little, also looking around. "Nothing."

"Nothing." A pleasant sort of energy began seeping into him – the same sort of energy he got when about to scare a child on their first night without their nightlight. The quantity, again, was far different, as was the quality, but he found it a beautiful substitute for the moment. He gazed at the toothy maw of an angler fish as it passed them by. "What a fantastic place."

"I thought you might like it." She felt something far different from him. It was the same energy, the same anxious sort of fearful excitement that a child might feel in a dark, lightless room. But, having spent most of her existence surrounded by trees and fresh earth, out in the elements, she was more interested in the cold of the ocean, and the barely-there movement of the two crustal plates. Gesturing the wall opposite them, she said, "This trench has a lot of the oldest type of ocean floors in the world. There are also heat vents around to maintain the food chain at this and deeper levels."

Pitch nodded politely, gazing around as Ashley spoke. He loved this place; any fear entity would be mad not to. It was cool, dark, ancient, and held some monstrous-looking sea-life in its depths. He almost felt as at-home here as he did in his lair. Almost.

Ashley noted his demeanor and decided to be quiet, plopping on her butt and letting her legs hang over the edge of the lip. She listened to the strange vibration that lay under every pure silence, even beyond the rush of blood pulsing in one's ear. _That_ was the heartbeat she had looked for, that had brought her here.

She wondered if anyone knew that she was gone yet.

* * *

It was days before anyone found a relatively recent trace of any Boogeyman activity.

"Here! You see? Ash, just like in the tower." North said, crossing his arms as Bunnymund sniffed at the stuff.

The Pooka rubbed his fingers together. "Yup. Must be Stitch Witch. That, or there are an awful lot of similar beings all over the world."

"Mm… Could be." North considered with a shrug, missing his friend's shake of the head. "But it's a big coincidence to find so many near nightmare hot-spots. We will assume that this is a sign that Stitch Witch has been here."

"Right…" Bunnymund leapt across a few rooftops, following the trail. "Oi, North! C'mere!" he called, waving before he dove into a child's bedroom window.

North followed, holding onto his fur snowcap as he climbed through the window. "What? What is it?"

Bunnymund pointed to the child's dream. It was golden one minute, before a surge of inky black warped it. It stayed that way for a moment, with the child making a concerned face in his sleep, before it began shuddering, like it was a program's glitch. The black was forced into submission, making the dream slivery-gold, then pure gold, and then it began reversing as the two dream sands fought with one another.

"Ah! I see." North rubbed his beard. "Very interesting…"

"Care to share?" Bunny asked, one ear raised.

"Stitch Witch _has_ been here. So has Pitch Black." The great Russian man pointed at the dream in its 'midway' stage. "Pitch and Sandy are similar to one another. Stitches can _help_ child overcome fear, but Pitch's is too strong for her to defeat. Here, she has given the child a fighting chance!"

The giant rabbit stared at him with a mildly baffled look. "…You get all that from a bunch of writhin' dust?"

"Of course! You underestimate the belly." North pulled a glass jar from within his coat. "I _loved_ catching fireflies." he said, noticing Bunny's curiosity.

Carefully, he caught a tiny wisp of the sand in the jar and made sure that the lid was stuck on it tightly. As it swirled inside, still fighting with itself, North put it in a coat pocket. "Now we should return to the globe and see if there are any other noticeable places where maybe Pitch has been."

"Ya got the bedframe back together already?" Bunnymund asked as North produced a snow globe.

North laughed. "Of course! I have worked with ice, steel, wood – iron is easy! It is sturdy, but not temperamental. It is _pliable._ Haven't you heard of the Iron Age, Bunny? Beautiful swords and daggers made from that time! You should go to a museum and see."

"Yeah; I'll get right on that. Kids won't notice a six-foot-tall rabbit meanderin' around."

* * *

Tooth hovered in the air, with a few of her fairies zipping around her. She had been out with the rest of them, searching for clues to make sure Pitch hadn't come surface-side. This was one of her few seconds of down time that she'd had while looking for her new friend, and she was using it to look at the little box of memories that they had found in Shade Grove. It had stirred her curiosity, being a different method of storing and keeping memories.

"Oh! What's this…?" She dug a small, metal object out of the box and examined it. It was an old curtain ring.

As soon as she removed it from the box, reality reassembled itself around her to enact the memory attached to it. Before Tooth knew it, she was thrown back several hundred years, and had returned to Shade Grove. She looked around and found the human form of Stitch Witch climbing down a line of tied-together curtains, bed-sheets and blankets to get out of the top window of her tower.

"Stitches!" Tooth zipped down to the memory Stitches curiously. Her hair was lighter than the painting portrayed, and her cheeks were very rosy.

She had an angry, determined look on her face, and she was grumbling under her breath. "Try to trap me into marriage… just cuz some half-witted _makeup-maker _says she's too scared to give girls makeup with Pitch Morose around… I'm gonna smack those three idiots silly for doing this to me…"

Her tiny hand grabbed a bunch of curtain, knocking its ring off. She looked down in time to see it tumble towards the earth, a distant, metallic _ping_ sounding faintly as it landed. The blood from her face disappeared, leaving her white as one of the sheets in her chain – which only happened to reach halfway down the tower. She had obviously had a miscalculation of depth perception, and now she was literally at the end of her rope.

"Uh… O-Oh… Oh jeez… Ohhh, no… no, nonono…" the human Witch whimpered, her knuckles whitening as their grip tightened.

Tooth looked around desperately. Who was going to save her?!

"Ashley?!"

Both Tooth and the girl in the memory looked up. Tooth yelped, "Pitch?!" Stitch Witch was too dumbfounded to say anything.

Pitch looked around in a panic for a moment before he reached down and began yanking the chain up in long pulls. "Hold on! I've-I've got you!"

"Okay." Ashley managed a barely-audible, tiny squeak. Tooth could barely hear it; Pitch wouldn't have been able to at all.

Finally, he got her to the window ledge, where he leaned over, grabbed her arms and pulled her in. She dove into his chest, trembling as she clutched at him for dear life. Her eyes darted around wildly as he stroked her hair, trying to calm her.

"Ashley…? Are you alright, darling?" he asked softly, looking worried.

She shook her head, still looking around to make sure that her bearings were as solid as they looked.

He gave a sigh of relief. Suddenly his face turned to mild anger. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pushed the woman back enough so they could see eye-to-eye. "That was a stupid, _stupid_ stunt you pulled! You could have been killed. Promise me that you will never, _ever_ do that again!"

Tooth felt touched; it was so strange and yet wonderful to see how worried he was for another person.

Apparently Ashley hadn't shared the sentiment at the time. She stared at Pitch with wide, scared eyes for a moment, then scowled back and said, "You can_not_ tell me what to do! _No one_ can tell _me_ what to do!"

Pitch looked as taken aback as Tooth as he jolted backwards. "What? No. I didn't mean…"

She huffed and pulled away from him, storming towards the stairs. She paused briefly, still shaking a little, as if she wanted to say something. As if she wanted to thank him for helping her; for _saving_ her, really. Tooth mentally urged her to.

Instead, Ashley silently hurried down the stairs, leaving a distraught-looking Pitch as the memory faded, and Tooth found herself back in her palace. The beautiful, blue-green fay looked down at the ring. Stitch Witch must have retrieved it from the ground later. Tooth dropped it back in the box. Why would she keep such an unhappy memory? Unless…

She recalled the conversation she and Jack had had with Stitch Witch regarding the Boogeyman being in Shade Grove.

"_Well, he is sort of a sociopath."_

"_Not as much as he'd like to think he is."_

Tooth turned the two phrases over in her mind a few times and quickly came to a conclusion. Perhaps Stitch Witch still felt bad about how she had treated Pitch in their human lives. Surely she had been able to realize that – and Tooth couldn't believe she was thinking this – Pitch really _had_ cared about Stitches, or Ashley, as she had been called.

The fairy gazed at the other items in the box with a tiny frown. She was afraid to take anything else out of the box and trigger the memory that it was connected to. It had been some powerful magic to take _her_ by surprise; then again, before and during the Dark Ages, most humans had readily believed in magic, so therefore were able to use it, invoke it, even leave traces of it in their possessions by mistake. That explained why they believed certain objects were related to a memory and not others. They were.

Baby Tooth and a couple of other fairies piped in her ear, hovering near her head as she came out of her thoughts with a sharp gasp. Tooth looked at them with wide eyes, clutching the box to her chest. "I have to tell the others. Stitch Witch _must_ still be alive!"

With that said, Tooth zipped off, leaving Baby Tooth to hurry after her.

* * *

Stitch Witch's silhouette could be seen jumping across the moon as she travelled between rooftops in Paris. She remembered that by the time France and Germany were really warring with one another, she had seen humans throwing one thing or another at their brother countries so much that all she did was sit back and root for her home country. Time quickly taught her that there was no discrimination when it came to foolish actions. Male or female, German, American, Chinese, African or Australian, everyone made strange and wild choices when they were afraid, or wanted power.

She quickly raced to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Once atop it, she could see the whole city reaching off into the distance. The light at the top flashed, warning planes of its existence – but, honestly, who didn't know where their national monument sat?

Seeing all of the lights dotting the city was beautiful, but it also reminded her of Pitch's globe. She missed her little village; it was always dark, perfectly illuminated by both moonlight and starlight after a certain hour. A small sigh escaped her, turning into a puffy little cloud that quickly disappeared in the cold air.

A sound caught her attention in the distance and she slid down one of the Eiffel's four leg beams, kicking off near the bottom. The gathered speed shot her through the air like a rocket, and the cloud of smoke that she had partially become in the process certainly helped the visual, were any believing child to spy her through their window.

She landed in a bedroom, the wind following her forcing it wide open upon her passage. Stitches went somersaulting across the room and landed – gracelessly – against a wall, feet in the air as her posterior nestled itself – painfully – into the juncture where the wall met the floor. She winced at the fruit of her antic.

Another mumble caught her attention and she got to her feet, looking around the room. A little girl lay in her bed, curled into a tight ball with her blankets all bundled around her as a nightmare assaulted her dream-world. The tiny beast stomped overhead and snorted at the Witch daringly.

Stitch Witch straightened out her tunic and adjusted her belt before stomping over, muttering "I'll show you!" as her grimoire appeared in her hand. She knelt next to the girl's head and began reading, smirking as the black steed found the golden sand coming back to fight with it.

She hadn't gotten far, however, when a voice hissed, "What are you _doing?!"_

Ashley gave a start and turned, blanching a little – if possible – as Pitch grabbed the dream and yanked it away from the child that it belonged to. He opened his palm, holding the writhing sometimes-blackish, gold-and-silver sand.

He glared at her furiously. _"This_ is what you have been doing? Trying to destroy my power behind my back?!"

"No! It's not like that!" she said desperately, holding up her hands. "Please, Pitch, calm down! You'll wake her up…!"

"Let the brat wake up!" He threw out his arms as his shadow reached up the walls of the room. "I'm the Boogeyman! I _live_ for the moment that they wake up, screaming!"

And that's exactly what the little girl did. She clutched her blankets, cowering back in her bed as she tried her best to get away from Pitch. "No… Nooo…" Her eyes darted to Ashley, who she shouldn't have even been able to see. "M-Mommy…"

"What? No…" Ashley held out her hands. "Please; it's okay, I'm not here to hurt you…!"

"No!" The little one jumped out of her bed to get away from the stitched-together woman, hiding in the corner and pulling her blanket over her head. "Mommy!" she sobbed.

Ashley's hands drew to her chest. She felt like a cold knife had dug into her heart.

"We're going." Pitch snapped, grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the closet.

Ashley continued staring at the little blanket ghost. "But… why could she see me…?"

"Because once you've seen the Boogeyman, everything else is just a shade of fear." Pitch said, shoving her through the portal. "How dare you betray me for my kindness."

"Kindness?!" She looked at him, exasperated. "It was just one child! I was just trying to…"

"Do not _insult_ my intelligence! I know about the others you've tried to 'help'!" he roared. "How do you do it, hm?! With this?" He snatched the still-present grimoire from her hands.

"No! Give that back!" she begged, reaching for it.

He darted out of reach in a swirl of black sand. "You want to defy me?" he hissed venomously.

Pitch opened the book and began ripping out its pages. Ashley screamed in anguish, rushing forward to try and gather the scraps of paper, falling on her knees. A gust of sand blasted them from her arms and into the dark cavern below. She dove to the edge of the platform they were on, reaching after them towards the abyss while shrieking, _"NO!"_

They were gone. The precious pages of her book – now lost to her. Who knew how long it would be before she could replace them? Who knew if they _could_ be replaced at all?

She looked at Pitch, tears staining their way down her face. "Why did you do that?!"

Still scowling, he threw the tattered binding on the ground beside her. "Because fairy tales don't save _anyone."_

Ashley gingerly picked up the abused, black leather. "…It's okay… I'll fix you somehow…" she whispered, closing her eyes and kissing the worn cover. She hugged it tightly to her chest. "I'm so sorry…"

She wished she could apologize to the girl and Pitch as easily.

**=^T_T^=**

Well, _that_ was a fun chapter ending, huh, kiddies? Talk about a shake-up of faith.

Nyaa.

In happier news, I do believe that this is the longest chapter I've made for Shade Grove so far! Hot dog! I think I'll have myself a saucer of milk and some catnip after this one! And a jingly-mouse. Can't forget the jingly-mouse!

Nyaa!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rise of the Guardians copyrights. I haven't even read the books. *sad kitty sigh*

Nyaa.

**=^-n-^=**

**Chapter 7**

Pitch stood before his globe, a darker look than usual on his face. He felt betrayed. More than that, he also felt cruel for once. For one who was used to scaring and demeaning other entities – usually into _oblivion_ – guilt for his own actions was an alien feeling that he wasn't happy to have back.

Two images of her scared face flashed through his mind: The one from the previous night, and the one from years ago when he had pulled her from the side of his home. Their home. Was he really actually _worse_ at handling other people after his long, lonely years of existence?

Ah, but he hadn't had to spend those years alone. He reminded himself that both he and his bride had been plucked from the same tower at the same time. She could have sought him out! _She_ had abandoned _him._

The thought of being a victim left a vile taste in Pitch's mouth. He had victims; he was not one of them.

Still, why _did_ her reaction seem so different after all this time? He sighed angrily. It was in her tears. She never cried when she was scared of something. The annoying woman would either just wince, or put on her best angry face and plow through the fear. How on earth she had been chosen as a fear-spreader was beyond him. Perhaps the Man in the Moon had been even more of a fool back then.

There was a pained shriek that reverberated throughout his lair. Pitch perked his head, looking around. Ashley was still on the platform, now punching and kicking at the air in her fury. Morbidly, it made him feel a bit better after her hours of sitting in the same spot.

He resumed his contemplating. Perhaps he should have pity on her. It wasn't her fault that she was made into a being that she was ill-suited for. He had tried to show the woman her true abilities, and yet her unwavering sense of duties towards children had gotten in the way. He felt a small surge of hatred towards his old friend for this; why had the Man in the Moon made her into something that Pitch could have, could control, just for her to continue hating him and living in pain?

She was perched on the globe again.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better." Pitch remarked, not looking at her.

Ashley shrugged. "I'm feeling different than I was, anyway."

"As I said." He paused for a moment. "…Do not worry about the book. I once destroyed Frost's toy stick and he repaired _that_ just fine."

"I'm not Jack Frost. I don't have unfathomable, unlimited power like _you_ do." she said pointedly. "Every story that has ever been told in the _world_ was in that book, or at least the ones that I had heard. You may think that a stupid little story doesn't affect anyone but I _do."_

Pitch glanced up at her sharply. "I will not allow you to prattle about all willy-nilly _undoing my work!"_

Ashley was suddenly right before him, shoving her face in his. _"You can't stop me!"_

He snarled at her, his shadow swallowing every sliver in light of the room. She took a small step back but continued scowling into his eyes. He could see her fear, hidden behind her determined expression. He narrowed his yellow eyes at her. "Yes… I can."

A hand grabbed her shoulder and Pitch pressed his palm against Ashley's forehead as if he were performing an exorcism. Black tendrils of power shot out of her, racing up his arm and into his body. Her body shuddered hideously before going limp, eyes clenching shut as she dropped to her knees and out of his grip. She held onto her head with one hand, using the other to keep herself from kissing the floor – all while she prayed that the planet would just _stop spinning._

"There. See? Is that what you want? What you were egging me to do back in Shade Grove? Hm?" he asked, looming over her.

She squinted up at him. "What did you just _do_ to me…?"

"All of your power is gone." He crossed his arms, leering at her. "As the stronger fear embodiment, I'm able to do that. You should be grateful you aren't dead."

"So you just tried to kill me." she accused.

His eyes were mere slits at this point. "If I tried to kill you, you would be dead." he muttered dryly before stalking away, disappearing into the shadows.

Ashley stared after him, then lowered her eyes to the ground. Should she escape, while he was gone? Should she stay and try to weather this storm that she had caused? She didn't know. She felt no fear, no guidance, no anything. Well, she did feel _something;_ she felt drained, and so, so tired.

Deciding to treat it like a concussion, she weakly got back up onto her feet and stumbled off to find a way to stay awake.

* * *

"Eesh, looks like he's tearin' right through South Africa." Bunnymund commented as he and Jack stared up at the globe, watching an ugly black line scribble its way through the lowermost point of the continent.

"Maybe Stitches got him mad." Jack said, smirking a little at the thought.

Bunnymund grunted, sharing in the Winter Spirit's amusement. "'Bout time one of his own kind told 'im what-for."

"You guys!" Tooth shot through the workshop, darting around with the little wooden box with a pentagram carved into its lid. "You guys! Oh – " She spotted them down by the globe and shot towards them. "She's alive! She has to be! Pitch wouldn't be able to harm her!"

"Whoa, calm down, Tooth!" Jack held up his hands. "Look, we're _all_ staying optimistic and everything, but…"

Tooth shook her head. "No, no, it's not just that! Pitch can't hurt Ashley because he _cared_ about her once!"

"Ashley?" Bunnymund frowned. "You been pokin' around in her memories, there, Tooth?"

"I-I didn't mean to!" She blushed a little, doe-eyed. "I-I… I just… I picked up a curtain ring, and before I knew it… Oh, shoosh, you!" She zipped away, leaving the two boys to look at one another and shrug.

North was in his tinkering room with Sandy, who held the jar with the strange mixture of nightmare and dream sand. As the little Guardian studied it critically, North asked, "Well, my friend? Can you fix it?"

Sandy smiled and nodded. A piece of cake appeared over his head as he gave a thumbs up.

"Piece of cake!" North applauded, laughing boisterously. "Great! I am sure our new friend will be happy to know that her efforts worked!"

"Sandy! North!" Tooth burst into the room. Sandy hugged onto the jar to keep himself from dropping it, then gave her a cross look. She giggled bashfully. "Sorry. But-But I have good news! I was looking at the items in Stitches' memory box, and one of them got triggered! It surprised even me. _Me!_ Can you imagine?! Anyway…" She waved a hand, taking a second to un-jumble her thoughts. "I found out a couple of things. Small things, but _important_ things! First of all, her name used to be Ashley, and apparently she was forced to marry Pitch. But get this! Pitch really _was_ in love with her! Can you believe it?! It's sort of romantic, in a really twisted way, but, hey – as long as it means that she's safe and alive, I'll take it!"

"Wait, wait, wait." North held up a hand, silencing Tooth. "You say he loved her. Did she love him as well?"

"W-Well, I'm not really sure… She _was_ sort of trying to escape his tower, but…" Tooth hesitated for a moment, then huffed. "You weren't there, North – you didn't see the memory. I did! She was just… conflicted. I think."

North raised an eyebrow at the busy fairy. He had every right to be skeptical. All of them did. Of all the threats to children, Pitch had been their longest-standing foe, older than all of them save the Man in the Moon. "Still, we should be wary. Even if one still feels something for the other, many, many centuries have gone by. I am sure they are different from how they once were."

Tooth seemed to wilt a little, looking at the box. "…I guess you're right… But still, it's a nice thought…"

He shrugged and nodded. "But, this is also Pitch Black we are speaking of. We cannot underestimate him, and he took Stitch Witch away from her children. I do not think she would want this; they are missing her."

"North, we found a spot for the portal." Jack said, knocking on the door to alert them of his presence. "If we hurry, it'll be the perfect place to set up our 'one shot'."

"Good! Now we are getting somewhere!" North clapped his giant hands together, grinning. "We will take the sleigh. I will get the bedframe and we will be off!"

Tooth turned to follow Jack out the door, but was stopped when North patted her on the shoulder. She gazed up into his kind eyes curiously and he said, "It is good that you expect the best, but do not forget to be prepared for the worst, too, Tooth. We would not be happy to see you hurt."

A small smile broke across her face as she placed a hand on his. "Thanks for listening, North."

He nodded. Then he grabbed up the bedframe and tossed it in his sack. "Now, where are we off to?"

* * *

Pitch's. Lair. Was. Huge.

Emphasis on _huge._

Ashley squinted at the thin rays of sunlight as they temporarily flickered and dimmed. Perhaps it was a sign that Pitch had returned. She wondered if she should go and say something to him, although she hadn't the foggiest idea as to what. It just felt like the tension over their apparent philosophical differences needed to either be acknowledged and disputed over, or ignored for a while.

At one time, Pitch had been a man who had frightened everyone without intending to. He had just been strange and withdrawn, and his comfort in isolation paired with his oddly gloomy demeanor had started rumors the moment he arrived. Many of the villagers had thought he was a mortician upon his arrival, which had certainly never helped his public image. Now he seemed to have snapped, what with the way he actively sought out people to strike fear into. That could very well have happened, too. No one could blame him for being frustrated over such an important thing as being acknowledged. In their world, it may not be life and death, but it was the key to their abilities having any real affect in the world – mundane _or_ magical.

She had been different back then, too, though. Ashley had been angry at everyone and anyone if they tried to instill order in her life. She had tried escaping from her tower home – many, many times, in fact – but had never had any thought beyond that as to what she might do. At the time, she had thought that he was keeping her there because he was against her, like her sisters; now she assumed that the poor man had just wanted someone to see him as something beyond a scary figure.

Ironic, now that he drew power from anyone who thought he was that same scary figure.

The Witch stopped in her steps and stretched. Even while walking, her body cried for a nap. She hadn't slept since she'd been resurrected. Who knew if the dream world had anything to supply her with? With another stretch and a groan, she sat on the steps she'd been descending and propped her chin on a hand. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to nod off for just a minute or two…

She had barely opened her eyes when she felt something was wrong. Something in her core told her to get back to Shade Grove and the tower immediately. She cursed her birth-star for giving her such bad luck this day; things certainly had gotten a bit _harrier_ since her life of isolation had been discovered. For the first time in her memory, someone had taken something from her tower, and they were trying to use it.

Ashley's mind jumped to the Guardians and she sighed in dismay. Rising to her feet, she pulled a feather from her messy hair and blew on it, and a portal appeared like a magic trick. She dove inside but, rather than returning her to her forest, she found herself in a wild world of elements running free. Fires roared, rivers flowed, and many strange creatures prowled and howled.

She paid no mind to them, looking around at the chaos with focused eyes. A great sound came from the sky, and she looked up to find a fledgling portal beginning to form. Taking a deep breath, she squatted low to the ground and sprang upwards. It wasn't enough, however – the portal lie just beyond her fingertips. "No…" she hissed, looking at it helplessly. What had been taken that could open a portal leading _here?!_

Jack and Tooth were the first to plummet through the tunnel, able to quickly right themselves thanks to flight. North and Bunnymund followed directly after, landing on a clearing below the hilltop cliff where Stitch Witch sat, with Sandy taking up the rear just as the portal dispersed.

"This is definitely _not_ Pitch's lair." Jack commented after a single look around. "Sandy, where did you take us?!" The Sandman shrugged and shook his head, clearly as baffled as his friends.

"Guys!" Stitches waved a hand. "North! Bunnymund! _Duck!"_

"Duck?" North questioned, he and Bunnymund looking at one another in confusion.

There was a high-pitched shriek as what appeared to be a small, flaming meteor shot between the two of them. Bunnymund hopped back with a yowl, grabbing his nose as he felt it burn the skin and singe his whiskers. He lifted his paws hesitantly, finding himself completely unharmed. "What the heck was _that?!"_ he demanded as the Witch slid down the steep cliff face to join them.

"It's a Shade Grove Nightmare." she lamented, frowning. "This is where all of the nightmares that I take away go. It's how I maintain some power over the fears that they represent."

"All o' this?!" The six-foot-tall rabbit jumped as a monstrous snowman roared and stomped around in the distance. "What kinda nightmares are these kids gettin'?!"

"It's the build-up, Bunny. The kids don't dream _all_ of this _all_ at once. It's… Thousands of years of bad dreams, ever since I was created, mixing together and splitting apart, all of the time." Stitch Witch shook her head. "This was once my lair, but I haven't been here in ages because of what you see around you. But what I don't understand is how _you_ got here."

"Tooth found out you were missing." North said as the fairy flitted down. "She was worried."

"Not nearly as much as the kids. They really miss you, you know." Tooth held out the little box, setting it in Ashley's hands. "I tried not to snoop, but one of the memories… well… I-I really didn't mean to…"

"Old magic does that." Stitch Witch opened her memory box. "So, which one was it?"

"Well, you were sort of stuck on the side of a tower."

Stitches smacked a hand to her face. "Of course I was."

"I gotta say, if this is what's in _your_ lair, I don't think you've got much to worry about." Jack was still watching the giant snow monster.

"I don't agree." Bunnymund said, looking at a few spiders as they skittered by. "They're still dreams. That little blighter earlier shoulda seared my nose off!"

"He's right." Stitches looked at the others. "As far as I know, they're harmless while they're in _here._ I've never wanted to see what would happen if they got out."

"I can see why." Tooth squeaked as some strange-looking bats swooped past her head, Baby Tooth screeching at them angrily as they continued on. "We should get out of here."

Stitch Witch frowned a little as they moved toward one another, North fishing for a snow globe. "I can't travel any further. I need to wait it out here, until I recover a little."

"Recover?" Tooth flitted over to her, tugging at Stitches' arms, tunic and hair. "Why? What did he do to you?! Did he hurt you? Do you want me to knock his lights out?!"

"Tooth doesn't have many _girl_friends, does she?" Jack asked Sandy, who shook his head with a muted chuckle.

"Whoa, whoa, I'm fine, fairy-girl!" Stitch Witch grinned, doing her best not to wobble. She waved a hand. "I'm just a little woozy from being away from home for so long, that's all."

"Are you sure?" North spoke up. "We've seen what you've been doing to the sand Pitch uses to destroy Sandy's good dreams. If he found out, he would be furious – even _with_ the history you two might have."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Ya went into the tower, didn't'cha? …I'm guessing you also saw the painting. Personally, I'm surprised it's all in one piece."

The large Guardian put a hand on her shoulder. "The past is nothing to be ashamed of. It gives us hope that maybe, one day, Pitch will not be an enemy that we have to keep locked up."

"Maybe it gives _you_ hope." Bunnymund and Jack shared similar looks, arms crossed. "Personally, girly, I still think you should lay low for a while until we've stomped him out a bit better."

"We could always lock him up in a block of ice!" Jack suggested helpfully.

North chuckled and shook his head at them. "Our point is, be careful. You are both different on the surface, but beneath all of that – who knows? Maybe you're the same two people that you once were. If things get too desperate, there is no shame in hiding or asking for help. We have been dealing with Pitch like this for years. As long as he is attacking children, we must fight him."

Stitch Witch smiled at him a little, nodding. "I get what you're saying, Old Man. I'll do what I can from my side; I wouldn't ask you to stop what you're doing for the children."

"Then we are at an agreement." He patted her on the shoulder and straightened up. "The bedframe we used to make this portal… is gone. I am sorry. It turned to rust-dust."

"Well, it _was_ really old." The Witch shrugged and waved as they left through a snow globe portal, then sighed heavily and walked back around and up to the same little hilltop cliff where she'd entered. A storm cloud overhead rumbled with thunder and unshed electricity. She paid it no mind.

**=^nwn^=**

I. Love. Chaos.

Period.

Naturally, so does Stitch Witch. What not to love about it, especially when it applies to a bunch of potentially-horrifying things that cannot actually do any harm because they are contained in a magical domain run by an entity who is an embodiment of fear.

Nyaa.

_Man_ that was a long, efficient sentence. My seventh grade English teacher would be proud if she could see me now!

Nyaa!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Rise of the Guardians copyrights. If I did, Pitch would have been a lot scarier, as I watch way too many horror movies.

Nyaa.

**Lindyn Guards** and others like him/her: Ask and you shall receive! Lol, I kid. But seriously, sorry about the wait, it happens sometimes. I had written all the way up to chapter 11, but only two of three subplots I had started fit RotG's style, and so I had to go back and fix some stuff. Oh, the muchness I had to fix. But, at the end of the day, my readers get a fanfic that makes them happy _and_ my skills develop a little more. *flexes kitty writer claws* One of those two subplots may have to twist off into its own little fanfic, but more on that at another time. I'll warn you if and when it happens.

Nyaa.

**=^n.n^=**

**Chapter 8**

Pitch turned his head slightly as something behind him moved. "I would expect you to be asleep somewhere by now." he commented as Ashley slowly made her way by. "Are you sneaking? It's not like you to move so sluggishly."

"I'm not sneaking." she growled, biting back a yawn. "I sensed a disturbance in the force, so I was off to do my Luke Skywalker impersonation."

"How _cute."_ He turned and walked over to her, looming a bit. Then again, he was a fairly tall man, and she was an inch below average for a woman – _not_ looming was fairly impossible. "Where were you? You certainly look worse than when I left… and you weren't very well off to begin with…"

He frowned a little. Was that guilt she saw?

"Another entity used the bedframe from the tower to get into _my_ domain. I went to make sure nothing got out." Ashley tilted her head slightly, eyes wandering among the cages hanging from the ceiling. Looking back at Pitch, she assured, "It wasn't anything dangerous. It was the Guardians. They noticed that I'd gone missing from Shade Grove."

"I thought that they might… _and_ I thought that they might come looking for you." He squinted at her curiously. "Although I must say, I expected you to go with them when they did."

She gave a small sigh, her head drooping a little. "The thought crossed my mind; I still share their outlook on saving and preserving childhood. But, at the end of the day, I am an embodiment of fear. I'm not saying that you and I are the same, Pitch, but we're two parts of the same coin. I share more in common with you; things that I don't understand." She seemed to brood on the statement a little before a light chuckle bubbled out of her. "I don't think they'd find the same appeal in the Trench that I do."

Pitch felt himself relax, a smile finding its way to his lips. It seemed, at least, that his childish wife understood the situation better than he thought she did. "That's very true. Personally, I'm glad that we share those things. I just wish that you trusted the things that I do."

"I do trust your actions; I trust that they work for _you."_ Ashley looked at him studiously. "But I can't go about doing things that don't feel right to me. I'm not trying to take any power away from you, though, and if it really does harm you somehow, then… I guess I can try to avoid children who have been exposed to your nightmare sand. I don't want children to _not _believe in you. I just…" – She sighed, trying to think of the correct words. – "I just don't want them to be so _harmed_ by believing in you."

"You have a strange way of showing it." he said, frowning. The lean man reached out and held one of her hands his own. "Do not worry about the way I do things. I will not condemn your methods, so long as you do _not_ intrude upon _my_ dominion where children are concerned."

He taught children to fear. She taught children to embrace their fear. All the same, she nodded. "I'll leave yours alone, Pitch."

"Good." He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her arms around the Witch as a relieved smile surfaced. Smells of nature clung to her and grabbed ahold of Pitch as well as he drew back a little. Brushing a few strands of hair from her doll-like face, he said, "There is one last thing you must do for me."

"Oh…?" Ashley felt her eyelids growing heavy. She yawned. "What… Whazzat…?"

Her body went limp as black sand swirled around above her head. "Sleep."

* * *

_Once upon a time, there was a young woman with three older sisters. All four of them were witches, and nature was their religion, but the elder sisters only served themselves. They fed their vanity, fed their egos, and even found ways to feed their purses from time to time. They were very beautiful, all with stunning, silvery-blue eyes, and hair that was blonde, brown, and black, which was very desirable; after all, blonde was the color of sunlight, and brown and black were the colors of the rich, fertile earth._

_The youngest sister was also pretty, with silvery-blue eyes and sand-brown hair. But she also had flecks of red in her hair, which her sisters used to tell her was the symbol of the fire in her soul – a destructive fire, which was what had killed their mother in childbirth and their father when he couldn't overcome his despair. They made the youngest feel guilt so great when she was a child, that when she grew up, she went about making mischief tricking and frightening others._

_The villagers saw that the youngest witch's games brought joy to their children, so they were fine with it so long as the line was never crossed. That worked for a very long time; as the youngest sister began to realize that she was not as bad as her sisters had made her feel, she began to work at her craft as well. Soon she was able to make the medicines and lead the rituals that her parents used to provide for the villagers before her. That made the adults even happier, because now they had a wise woman for their home once again. The sisters didn't mind that the adults loved her more, because the village's available bachelors were more interested in the three elders rather than their busy-minded younger sister._

_Once upon that same time, there was a lonely Englishman who had grown dreary and depressed as a part of his city life. His family had long made a healthy living serving as counselors to royals for many, many generations. The Englishman was a very brilliant, very well-educated man, and so was the king that he advised. However, he had no family of his own, since his very scarce free time was spent reading many works of fiction that others may have found frightening._

_One day, however, the king died, and his child ascended the throne. The new king was proud and foolish, and listened to nothing that his advisor told him. So, after months of clashing with the son of his deceased king, the Englishman took his small fortune, and his belongings, and moved to a small village in the deep, beautiful forests of Germany. There he met the villagers, the three sister witches and their youngest sister, the fire-touched witch._

_The German villagers had their reservations when it came to the Englishman from the city. At the time, there was some tension between the two countries, so even though the Englishman held no animosity towards his German neighbors, they were much more careful around him._

_The children were nervous and frightened of the unusual Englishman. He was somber and quiet, he liked to read rather than talk with other people, and he liked to roam at night. His serious demeanor was alien to them, and so whenever he came around, they would clam up and run to their parents or the youngest of the witches. She didn't fear the Englishman as openly as the others, and she had been roaming the forest at night since she was a tot!_

_Before long children in the village were frightened to go to sleep at night, thinking that perhaps the Englishman was a monster who would come and snatch them up. The parents spent a great deal of time on those nights trying to tell them otherwise, that soon both adults and children spent their days tired and drawn. The village workers were soon barely able to do their labors properly, so the three older sisters couldn't readily get trinkets, gifts or attention as they could before._

_The three sisters decided to remedy the problem themselves. Since mothers had started telling their sons that the youngest witch was wife material, and the Englishman had no wife of his own, they began to whisper in his ear. They told the Englishman of how their little sister was prone to fits of madness because of the young men who hounded her. They spoke of how children always demanded her attention, giving her no time to look for a husband. They told many, many lies about what a charming lady she could be as long as others weren't around – anything that would get him back to the city with the witch who could be his wife, if he just paid a small dowry._

_Anything to keep their sister safe._

_So the Englishman and the youngest sister were married in a hand-fasting, as was tradition at the time. He had a tower built not far from the village – he had no wish to return to the city – and that was where the two of them lived for a time. The spirited witch spent many days coming up with escape plans, all of which ended in failure, and her poor husband worried as each one was carried out._

_The children missed their older playmate, and the villagers grew suspicious of why their wise woman was being kept from them. As belief in ghosts and monsters was very real at the time, soon the childish notion that the Englishman was using the witch's magic against her willing it became whispered among the adults._

_One night, they stormed the tower, full of rage and malice. They shouted awful things, accusing the Englishman of doing things that he did not do and calling him the names of all sorts of demons that stalked the night. When they found the doorway barred, one crazed villager thrust his torch at the door, expecting that the wood would burn, but not the stone. But there were decorations on the door, and wood framed the stone walls. Within minutes, the tower was ablaze, and the villagers still had not made it inside. They could only watch helplessly as the fire burned. The three sisters, horrified at the fate they had given their youngest sister, realized their misdeeds when the villagers turned on them and ordered the women to leave the families they had made. The children of the sisters were left to be raised by the families of their fathers instead._

_As it was impossible to get into the tower, no one was able to try recovering the remains of the couple's remains._

_The sisters were sent away a few days after the fire, and as Ashley watched them go, she felt sad and worried for them. While they had always claimed to be witches, they never learned to make medicine or find food, because they never tried to learn about the world around them and the names of each plant and animal. She followed them for days, helping them survive through little hints and clues; she didn't know why her sisters could not see her while the animals could. When they reached another town, they soon became well-versed in the language of flowers, and were able to set up a flower and perfume stand to keep themselves alive. Ashley returned to her own village, satisfied with that._

_Pitch, on the other hand, roamed the world, driven mad by what had happened to him. It made no sense how his life could have gone so wrong. For a moment, things had even started to go right finally, after he had told his wife why he had done certain things and learned her sisters had tricked him. She had begun to calm down, no longer trying her escape antics and even looking into his own private world. Before the fire, she had told him she may have some upcoming news. He never had a chance to find out what that might be, though he had his suspicions._

_And so, their paths split. For centuries, the two courses ran in opposite directions. Pitch spread fear from child to child, trying to pull the world back into darkness as it had been when he gained his power. Ashley preserved the spirit of children scaring one another for fun, and each batch of children learned how easy that taming their fear could be, with practice. The sons and daughters of her sisters grew up, had families of their own, and eventually passed on, with each new generation looking less and less like the last._

Ashley hummed and fidgeted in her sleep, fingers tapping idly and toes wiggling. She had always been animated while asleep, especially if something was on her mind. Entities such as themselves rarely slept for this very reason; they were always busy doing whatever it was that they needed to do, and it cumulated during their waking time. Nightmare dust affected fear entities differently from humans and other entities. It made them relive the fear that had so irreparably corrupted them in life and made them want to strike fear into others.

Pitch watched a small smile tug at the corners of the Witch's mouth. He was sitting on the bed next to her, still wondering how they had stayed apart for so long. There was tension in their past, and the fact that she had remained in the village that had destroyed them added to it. Once they had recognized where their previous misunderstandings were, the two had gotten along surprisingly well… but that was when they had been mortal creatures.

He couldn't help feeling bitter when he thought of her sisters. Because of the tales they had woven while getting him to marry her, their relationship had been difficult at best before things were straightened out. In fact, it had been only a few short weeks before the fire that they had together.

Why on earth she had stayed in the same place that would have led to their deaths? Had the Man in the Moon not interfered, they would have certainly died. Pitch could only guess as to why Ashley would have stayed there. Many lesser fear entities stayed near the location of their greatest crime, even if that 'great crime' had never really happened and was only the local folklore or misconstrued rumor.

She could have been free. She could have wandered the world and forgotten all about that horrible little village. Why, immediately following their transformation, she could have even exacted revenge on her sisters, the way he had…

"Urgh…" Ashley stirred in her sleep, pulling him out of his thoughts. She opened an eye and looked at Pitch groggily. "Did you hit me with a truck…?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Of course not… Although, when one thinks about it, I suppose sleeping does give our kind a similar feeling."

As Pitch stood up, he held onto Ashley's hands, helping her to her feet. She rubbed her eyes with a low groan. "I wish you hadn't done that. What a sad dream."

"Oh? It didn't seem to affect you so badly from _this_ end." He tucked some of her hair behind one of her ears. "…I must ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me."

She looked at him steadily, her soot-covered eyes clearing of sleep quickly. "Alright. If I answer, it'll be honest."

"Why return to Shade Grove? Why _stay_ there? After all the villagers put us through, after what they _did_ to us! I can't wrap my mind around it! How could you _forgive_ such a crime?"

"Because I saw what happened to them after I was gone. I saw the Plague get them. I saw wars tear families apart. They became as much the victims of senseless violence as the originators of it. The fire that destroyed us was but a third of what nature did to them afterwards. That was the retribution they risked. They believed in such a karma, and so that karma returned the injustice." Ashley sighed, running a hand through her hair and scratching the back of her head. "My nieces and nephews were still in the village, anyway. I had to look after them. I wanted to keep them safe, or else help them go in peace… But then the ones who survived had children, and then their _children_ had children…" Her voice softened, until it quieted altogether. She was hugging her middle, and a downcast look rolled across her features. "…We should have had one, but the fire took that away. I didn't have any proof of it yet, but I… I just _knew,_ somehow! And they…!"

Pitch watched, silent and stunned, as she gritted her teeth as though she were experiencing incredible pain. Maybe she was. He was, as the thought sank in. He had almost been a father, something he hadn't thought about in years. It was something he had wanted at one time.

"I let the plague take the other families. But not mine." Ashley managed to explain, her lips tight as she held back an incredible torrent of emotion. "If I couldn't have my child, then neither could they. Many children fell sick and died, and I… I could never forgive myself after that. I was so angry, but instead of taking it out on the adults, I destroyed the innocent. There was such a long time where there _were_ no children in Shade Grove at _all!_ I thought… I thought that I was going to fall into true _Oblivion_ because it was so certain that every adult would either die or leave because they thought it was a curse! Dying is one thing, but to cease to exist…"

Now that really was a chilling thought. One he had thought of many times himself when he was still young in immortality. Of course, learning that even that didn't exist as a source of rest was a lesson that they all learned, eventually – not one gained by there being no belief in them, anyway. Oblivion was what had happened to all of the other fear-creatures who had crossed him over the years.

Still, that did not distract him from her previous point. "Ashley."

She stopped and looked up at him, wishing the curtains of hair in the peripherals of her vision really _could_ block out the world for a moment. She forgot; she'd never had a chance to tell him. "…I had been waiting until I was sure." she slowly recalled, a horrible knot wrenching in her heart. "I wasn't sure how you would handle it, and I didn't… I didn't want you to get your hopes up…"

"You still should have told me!" His voice was softer now, almost a whisper. He gently grabbed her arms. "I had a right to know that. You know what it _meant_ to me…!"

"I know, but things had just gotten better, and we were just learning important things from eachother when… when…" She let her head droop for a moment as she let her eyes clench shut. She was feeling old pain, and intensely, at that. "That's a big part of why I can't hurt children like others of our kind can. I just can't do all that I'm capable of makes that sort of impact. I would rather put in the extra effort to cause pain to the adults, or even teenage kids at this era, but going right for the youngest of them… I'm sorry…"

Ashley had begun to well up with tears, and now she wiped frantically at them. She wanted to hiss her disdain with her own behavior. She just wasn't one to cry! Pitch gently batted her hands away from her face and pulled her into his chest. With a little whimper of a sound, she hugged him, holding onto him as if she were going to die from pain.

For a moment, he really did pause to think on his stance towards humans.

**=^o_o^=**

Agh, man, I was really in the _zone_ for a minute there. Maybe a little too much so. I don't know; I just had this moment where I hyper-honed-in on how Pitch would react to that. I also sort of dropped it off in an evil place. Will Pitch stop tormenting kids? Probably not. Will he upgrade to older age groups? Maybe so! I do know when thing: I would _not_ want to live in the fictional village of Shade Grove right now.

Nyaa.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.

Nyaa.

=^-.-^=

**Chapter 9**

There had been a point in time when the world wasn't bright with the children's belief in good things and happy dreams. There had been a point where the adults were so depressed by fear and hopelessness that even the older groups could see Pitch. Of course, they didn't know who he was; they thought that he was just another rich upperclassman of society.

Few in his world knew that the Boogeyman was a shapeshifter. Others thought it to be a rumor heard from the humans and picked up by the younger among them to be fact. Many who found out didn't live through the encounter – or, in Sandy's case, couldn't speak anyway.

Pitch had spent glorious nights during the Dark Ages running through forests and haunting rural villages in the guise of a large, black dog with a single eye. The Grim, humans had called it. They had given a similar name to his greatest rival at the time, the Reaper. Yes, the Reaper had been very prevalent in the European countries as a vision of death… but he had only been the fear of it. Pitch had taken over his mantle after a three-day fight. That was when the Man in the Moon had really started looking for Guardians to protect the children.

He had underestimated this move at first, especially seeing who his 'opponent' was. The Sandman had seemed so harmless that it was to be considered a _joke._ How could the short, portly little golden man pose a threat to _anybody,_ let alone one capable of killing by that point? That had been Pitch's greatest mistake, leaving him alive.

At least, he had thought that _that_ was his greatest mistake. Apparently, the real mistake of his life had been not listening to his deepest paranoia and taking Ashley with him back to the city after marrying her. Then they wouldn't have been murdered. Then he would have had a son or a daughter. Maybe even both!

Pitch Black scowled at Shade Grove's spot on the global map. A thunder rolled around in his head as he gazed at it. Oh, how he wished he was there. He would summon a great, black cloud upon it, and allow the more sophisticated creations of childhood nightmares to rip it apart. If the Stitch Witch had carried thousands of bad dreams, he carried _millions._

He was ready to go back on his word and destroy it in spite of his wife's wishes. He wanted to make them pay the way he had made his sisters-in-law pay!

Dark shadows appeared on the map. Pitch raised a single eyebrow as he watched it grow. It made Germany disappear quickly, then began spreading to the rest of Europe and part of Asia, until a nice little territory had been staked out. Then, just as suddenly, it faded away.

Curious.

"Pitch?" He turned his head slightly as Ashley wandered over to his side. Her eyes were still darker than normal, but that was to be expected. Like himself, she wasn't one to divulge into emotions if it could be helped.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked, placing a hand on the small of her back.

She nodded, looking up at the globe. "Why do you always stare at this thing?"

"To remind myself why I keep taunting children." Pitch gestured to the glimmering continents. "Each light is a child who believes in our kind. However, many of them do _not_ believe in me, nor in any other fear embodiment, be it ghost story, Boogeyman or phobia. Because of your 'friends', the Guardians, many of us will never know our true potential."

"They're just doing what they're supposed to be doing." Ashley pointed out, though she didn't sound as heartened this time.

"So are we." He leaned his forehead to rest against hers. "What makes _them_ any better than _us?"_

She winced at his statement. It was true, after all. If the Man in the Moon had made them, why also create forces to stop them? She had unearthed more than just buried memories; the emotions she had long since thought she'd gotten over were back in full, robust force.

Ashley regained a calm face. "If you want to get at the children, you should get at the adults as well."

Pitch shook his head and sighed, smiling half-heartedly. "I haven't been able to do that since the Dark Ages."

"When you took my power, where did it go? In you, I'd imagine." She looked up at him. "I gained strength during the Dark Ages, too. I just never used the power that I got. It remained with me, never let loose or used to frighten people. Now _you_ have that, don't you?"

He considered the thought for a moment, recalling what had happened with the globe just minutes before. It _had_ been a trick he had used before, when fear could be summoned with just a snap of his fingers – he just hadn't had a map at the time like this globe.

"I see." An edge of interest crept into his voice. Pitch looked at Ashley. "And why are you telling me this now, exactly?"

"I don't know." she lied. She knew exactly why; the previous night's conversation had dredged up so many dormant emotions that, at current, the Witch was having a crisis of faith. It had certainly taken the wind out of her sails for the time being.

He studied her for a moment. "You would rather I harm adults than children."

"It's easy to get a child to believe. If you get their parents to believe, it's even easier." Ashley rubbed one of her arms self-consciously. It bothered her how much the thought of attacking adults _didn't_ bother her. Still, it was better than children, she supposed. "I think… I want to help you, somehow. I'm not sure how I can do that, though. You're a shapeshifter who can taint dreams and turn them into nightmares. The closest thing I have to nightmares are stolen monsters from natural bad dreams."

"That's alright." Pitch lifted her chin to face him. "You will find your technique with fear. When you do, we will both wreak havoc _together._ But for now, you are still in recovery. You should focus on regaining the strength to even visit the mundane world. As you are, even a wandering phobia could strike you down."

Ashley managed a light laugh. "You talk about phobias as if they were… well… whatever it is _we _are."

He smiled at her naïveté. "You've never seen phobias? Dear me; you've spent far too much time in that little village." he mocked.

"What… so they are real…? Ghosts, or entities, or whatever?" She made a face, uncertain of how she felt about the information. "…No, I guess I haven't seen one…" That certainly made her feel childishly inexperienced.

"That doesn't surprise me. The environment you created in Germany isn't one that fosters fear. 'Your' humans don't shy away from fear so much as run _into_ it headfirst." He brushed some of her unruly hair from her face. "Courage isn't the end of us, but it _is_ a thorn in our side as a whole group. Phobias are… inherent, to a point where sometimes one is born alongside a human. They feed off of such a specific fear, however, that they can't usually go just anywhere without running the risk of starving or running into another fear creature. They aren't particularly strong or smart, either."

"So… they're zombies." Ashley frowned. "From the 50's movies. They just shamble around and grab onto whoever walks by?"

"That would make them far more interesting, but, yes. They're very base. I suppose they could be taught – I once came across a pyrophobia that was capable of complex language and reasoning. Of course, that was because it was very old, and had the pleasure of living in a city with no opposition. I would have let it live, had it not been one of few _recognizable_ threats that I had at the time…" Pitch recalled the phobia, which had looked like a burned man. It was a terrifying thing to look at, and the fire it had been able to summon was terrifically powerful. He had gained severe wounds from that fight, but thanks to his influence, they hadn't marked him for very long. "Still, you should be careful of them, especially as you are now. They have a way of sneaking up on a person, and their hold is very hard to break. You'd be a very favorable target to them."

"Oh… Alright." Her frown deepened. She didn't like being without powers. She was used to being able to dart and glide and cause all sorts of mayhem at the bat of an eye. All of this tired, groggy stillness was… suffocating.

Pitch smiled at her reaction. "Don't worry. As I said, eventually you will regain some momentum, and then you will be able to do all that you could before. Possibly even more."

"I hope it's soon." Ashley muttered.

He shook his head and glanced at the globe again. "…I must go for a while. I have experiments to conduct."

"Experiments?" She perked up, interested. "What kind of experiments?"

"I will tell you about them later." he promised, then vanished through a portal.

Ashley sighed heavily, then produced her memory box and grimoire. Pitch wasn't the only one who had work to do. She hopped down a few cliffs to where a large, wooden table was, where she put both items down. She opened the box and looked through it, until she found what she was looking for.

She pulled a small, leather pouch from the box. The pouch itself didn't trigger the memory. Its contents did. She poured the black sand into the palm of her hand and gazed at it.

Reality fell away.

* * *

It was late at night. Very late. Clouds cast strange shadows across a waning moon as Pitch stood in the center of a cul-de-sac. He listened closely to the whispers of the wind through the treetops. His presence had darkened the street lamps, and the suburban houses around the bubble of paved road had been dark when he arrived.

The night told him it was early in the morning, just after midnight – still plenty of time for fear to roam free. He could hear softer sounds in each house as his newest creations prowled inside. They weren't his Nightmares, because his goal here wasn't to infect children with bad dreams.

A shriek pierced the stillness like a harpoon, and lights began turning on in the houses. More screams accompanied the first. These were screams that he had missed, screams that he had loved as dearly as children cowering in the night.

Adults ran out of their houses with their families in tow, trying to get armfuls of blankets and pillows stuffed into their minivans. Still wearing pajamas, robes and slippers, they tried to communicate with one another but panic still had a firm grip on them.

Pitch stepped aside as the vehicles zipped by, invisible to their drivers. He could see their children in the back seats, however, and they could see him as well. Eyes widened in the second that they recognized him, as only children could.

He gave them a smile that even a shark would find disconcerting.

Once the cul-de-sac was empty, and the distant squealing of tires on pavement was gone, the Boogeyman raised a hand over his head and snapped his fingers. Black sand began to spill out of windows and doorways, flowing towards him quickly… or, scurrying, really. An assortment of black spiders – from tiny to tarantula – gathered around his feet, becoming a pedestal that lifted him into the air so that he could better view the American suburban neighborhood. More houses were screaming to life as they found the same critters crawling all over the walls of their homes, even invading their closets and their beds.

It was a feat that he hadn't seen for nearly a millennia, and it created a swell of pride in his chest.

Something glittered in the moonlight, catching his eye. Pitch turned his head as a familiar dart of blue-green looked at him and flew away. One of Tooth's little lackeys. He smirked; let the bird run back to its mother and tell her all about the bad things it had seen.

When the Guardians realized that Ashley was ultimately on his side, they would no doubt abandon her. He did not want to cause her pain, but he did want her to be her truest self – as a friend of the Guardians, that just was not something that his bride could be. Their endless gushing of all things 'good' made her doubt what she was. She was fear, the same as him.

Anyone who could turn her against him had no place in his world.

Pitch remained perched atop his pillar of black sand as it turned to a cloud. He swept over the houses towards the larger buildings of the city, while the torrent of glittering, black arachnids poured from one house to another. They were powerful enough that adults were affected by them, yet small enough that creating so many hadn't greatly reduced his power.

He gave a content sigh as he watched the afflicted areas darken ever so slightly. This was most definitely a successful experiment. Ashley was right; Pitch had gained her stored power, returning him to his Dark Age prowess.

The Boogeyman was so absorbed in seeing what was happening to the humans below, he missed the presence of a cold, crisp breeze that stirred nearby.

* * *

Jack landed in Pitch's Lair, an angry look on his face. He hated that he was the one who had been around when Pitch struck topside. When the little Tooth fairy had bumped into him, the poor thing had been terrified. He'd sent it on its way with his assurance that he'd investigate. Luckily the portal Pitch had used was still open.

"Hello?" Jack looked around warily. "Hello!"

He flew out among the cages that hung from the ceiling, looking at them as he passed each one by. With Pitch running wild as he was, Jack almost expected to see Stitch Witch locked up in one of them. Why else would she let the Boogeyman harass the humans above?

"Stitches!" He spotted her collapsed next to a table below. Swooping down, he landed and fell to his knees next to her, bewildered. "Oh, jeez… Please be okay…"

Jack rested his head on her chest, instinctively searching for a heartbeat. It was still beating, of course, but he couldn't figure out why she was down. Stitch Witch suddenly yawned, making the Guardian of Fun jump back a little as she stretched and rolled onto her side.

He frowned, rubbing his chin as he studied her. "…Why are you still…?"

A horrible thought struck him. It was no big secret that Pitch killed other fear spawn by draining them of more power than they had. As soon as he remembered that little fact, a knot formed in Jack's stomach. Had Pitch actually tried to _hurt_ his former wife?

"I'll get you out of here." Jack muttered, trying to pick her up.

"Who… What…?" Ashley gave a start, making Jack jump back a second time. She blinked, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes. "…Jack…?"

"Yeah… Hi." He smiled nervously, waving a little. "Pitch was doing this crazy 'sea of spiders' thing, and I was in town, so… What's goin' on?"

She frowned at his chipper greeting. "…Were you just trying to kidnap me?"

"No. Well, yeah. Sort of." He pointed at her cheeks. "You're still really pale, and Pitch kinda has this habit of squashing the competition… You haven't tried _fighting_ him or anything, have you?"

"No. Well, yeah." She smirked cockily at him. _"Sort of."_

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. "Is he being a bully? I mean, he's Pitch. It's sort of something that he does. And _you_ were the one passed out on the floor."

"I pushed his buttons. He got mad and drained me, yes, but as you can see, I'm still alive." Stitches shook her head and put her handful of sand back in its pouch. "I fell asleep. I haven't been this weak since the Man in the Moon woke me back up. I was reliving a memory."

"From that box Sandy had Tooth hold onto?" Jack watched Stitch Witch stand and place the pouch back in its box. "So, it's exactly like children's teeth."

"Except there's more of them." Stitches picked up the box and gazed at it. "I've never relived a memory carried by a tooth, but these items are each linked to a very specific memory. Sometimes, they're not always particularly happy. But I was always really good at forgetting things, so I'd rather have bad memories along with the good ones."

"Well, I can see the virtue in _that."_ Jack stood up and dusted off his pants. "So what was that memory? A good one?"

"Mostly good."

"Are you sure?" He looked a little worried. "That looked like Pitch's sand…"

Ashley giggled, and Jack found himself relaxing. It didn't sound forced or as if it were covering something up, at least. "When I was little, I saw the ocean for the first time. There was some black sand on the beach, and my dad told me that if I dug deep enough under it, I would find buried treasure. It's an old wive's tale, and I was more interested by the sand and the sea than by any trinkets that may or may not be there." she explained. "What with Pitch using black sand in the same way I use smoke… I was feeling a little nostalgic for that memory."

Jack laughed as well at the thought. "Nothin' like a kid digging in the dirt, I guess. Sometimes I forget that about the warmer seasons." He looked around again. "You're sure that you're okay here? It seems really quiet compared to… you know."

"I'm sure, Jack. Don't worry. I'm pretty rough-and-tumble when it gets right down to it." She reached up and ruffled his hair. "You get out of here before my husband finds you, kid. I don't really feel up to springing you free if he locks you up. Or worse."

"Or worse…" Jack muttered, frowning as he turned away. He looked around, spotted an exit, and was gone as quick as a breeze.

Ashley raised her eyebrows and blew out a puff of air, looking at her memory box again. The memory attached wasn't entirely as cheerful as she had made it sound. Still, even with the bitter parts to it, it was a very precious memory to her.

A cold chill pricked its way up her spine. "What was _he_ doing here?"

She turned slightly, looking up at Pitch. "He thought you were a woman-beater."

He looked shocked for a moment, then scowled after Jack. "Nosy little runt…"

"He's just a worried kid. A big brother, from what I hear. I don't think that I would have minded siblings quite so much if I'd had one like him." Ashley smiled slyly at the flat look Pitch gave her. "Oh, don't be like that."

"That boy is the reason my first attempt at a global comeback failed. I am _going_ to 'be like that'." he muttered. When her amused smirk didn't waver any, he shook his head. "You're incorrigible; you know that, don't you? Still, I have to wonder how long you can continue to string them along."

"String them along?" She tilted her head slightly, confused. "I know you're not about to tell me who I can and cannot be friends with, Pitch."

"Of course not." He frowned at her. "But you have to see where this will go wrong; the Guardians stand for five _positive_ points that make childhood so 'special'. You and I, on the other hand… Well, we keep an eye on an unpleasant aspect. We invoke it, spread it about to gain a little power for ourselves, but the moment that we try to get worldwide belief the way that each of _them_ do, they squash us like insects. We're nothing but parasites to them, a virus that must be monitored and fought off from time to time. They don't want things like _us_ matching them by reaching our full potential."

"I don't doubt that they'd fight us the moment that we posed a real threat to children." Ashley looked at him imploringly. "But just because two forces fight at times doesn't mean that they can't coexist. Nature is full of duality!"

"Ah, yes, but as I recall, you never really believed in good or evil." Pitch countered nonchalantly. "Well, they _do_ believe in those things, and when our 'forces' fight, they are doing so to _vanquish_ our evil. I am afraid that you might be putting too much faith and not enough reason into the way you look over your friendship with them."

A hurt, troubled expression traced her features as she turned the possibility in her mind. Her disbelief lied solely in pure evil, but her many years had taught her that people were completely capable of being all-out _bad_ if they were set on such a path. Jack and the others probably had similar views, but she couldn't be absolutely sure of that.

North's word came to mind: _"It gives us hope that maybe, one day, Pitch will not be an enemy that we have to keep locked up."_

"Maybe I am, but I still have a good feeling that I'm right."

=^'.'^=

Hmmm… Pitch seems pretty cocky with his newfound power boost. Which reminds me! I received a question in the reviews, so now I'm going to put Lexiful Sunshine on the spot by answering their question: "Pitch stays in character like all the time in this story, how do you do it?"

First off: Thanks for the post, I'm glad you think Pitch is in character. =^n.n^= The answer: Carefully, and with the knowledge that an OOC Pitch would possibly mean a horrible death by angry Pitch-fans. =^o_o^=;; When playing Pitch, it's good to keep a good ounce of bitterness mixed with a hint of angst; he knows how to manipulate and acts like the 'empowered victim' when trying to whoop people for what he perceives as wrongdoings aimed at himself. Plus, being able to play Vlad Masters from Danny Phantom doesn't hurt. They're very similar when you stop to think about it.

Nyaa.

I read somewhere that Pitch's book counterpart once had a daughter. I may have to read them someday…

Nyaa…


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Rise of the Guardians. If I did, Pitch _might_ have won, and that's not exactly good for children to see.

Nyaa.

I would like to warn everyone of some allusions to different religions and spiritualities in this chapter. Please keep in mind that these are intended to allude to different lifestyles historically linked to such spiritualities and religions, and are in now way intended to offend anyone! I love my readers. I am a cat. I sort of need people around so that I can properly ignore them.

Nyaa.

**=^-.-^=**

**Chapter 10**

Magic was a very real force in the world, and – provided they truly _knew_ that it was there – humans could even tap into this power to affect the world around them. Of course, in the present day, magic was very difficult to believe in, unlike previous ages who had been innocent in the areas of science and technology.

Then again, believing had never really been difficult for 'young' things.

That was why children could glimpse through the veil that separated legends like North and Bunnymund from humans. Supposedly, there was the rare instance in which an adult could perceive past that same veil, but Stitch Witch had never met one of them personally. She could only remember adults had, one day, stopped seeing her the way their children saw her. That had been after the deaths of an entire generation of Shade Grove's children. They had lost hope in her mercy, and afterwards had not been able to see her again.

The Witch sat atop her tower, contemplating her situation. Her old feelings. They had never gone away entirely, but she had buried them quite well for a time. Now that time was ended, it seemed. She tried to remember when the first child had looked at her and seen her. The first time a child had seen her and not been _afraid_ of her. They were one in the same. The child, in both cases, had been a son of her sisters' children; Ashley's great-nephew. Apparently, his paternal grandmother had told him about 'the great healer' that they had killed, and how her ghost had wiped out an entire generation.

The little boy had been her redemption, as well as her banished sisters. His name had been Micah, and he had grown into a fine, strong man, who had become the first in the village to have a Christian wedding – something that all of the Abrahamic religions and a few Eastern ones had had. It had seemed strange and romanticized to her at the time, since a marriage claimed that only death could separate the two spouses, but Micah's lineage had brought some of her favorite children and her most fervent believers. Plus, marriage had shown her how happy a lifelong love could make two people, even if their lives were shaken by terrible, rough patches.

Micah's descendants had brought Ashley Maggy, but she had no descendants that were truly her own. It weighed heavily on her heart sometimes. She had always wanted a pair of eyes that adored her as a mother from the first second that they beheld her. Biology did not affect how much she loved all of the children of Shade Grove, but it also didn't change the fact that she had once wanted her own. She had always been jealous of her sisters for their children.

The Witch spat at the ground and ran both hands through her hair, ruffling and shaking it so that red flew out wildly in all directions. She didn't like these heavy thoughts. She didn't like that she had lost control in front of Pitch, if even for a moment. Old feelings had come back to her, and unfinished ones, at that.

She had planned to try and stop what he did to children. She wasn't supposed to be empathizing with him!

Soft sobs brought her out of her thoughts, and she was grateful for them for once. Stitch Witch had to jump from one tree to the next, not able to run across them as she once had, but she still arrived at the window in a timely manner.

"Hey, Maggy! I was just thinking about you; you okay?" she asked gently as she knelt next to the girl's bed. Maggy shook her head and sniffled as her bedside lamp was turned on. "What's wrong? Winter's here, and I know you'll be seeing Jack around here soon."

"Daddy says we have to move." Maggy murmured. "I don't want to go. The Boogeyman'll get me!"

Stitch Witch looked alarmed. "But, Maggy! He's not… He's not even…" She bit her cheek. She couldn't tell the girl that Pitch wasn't real… could she? She sighed and put a hand on Maggy's head. "Maggy, I didn't want to tell you this, but you had an ancestor – a great, great, greatest grandmother – who was _exactly_ like you."

Maggy peeked up at her, worry and curiosity mixing in her amber-brown eyes. "I did? …What was she like?"

"She was tough. Fierce. Beautiful; all of the men wanted to date her." Stitch Witch sighed and sat on the bed. Maggy moved to sit beside her. "Her name was Morgana, and she was named after the dark goddess who is also a great warrior of the wilds. This Morgana was exactly like the goddess in every way, which was sometimes not a great thing."

"Was she mean?" Maggy asked.

"Only to me." Stitch Witch smiled at the shocked expression on the little girl's face. "She was my eldest sister, and even though we loved eachother very much, she was always mad at me because our mom died to give me life. But in the end, we were friends again. Your ancestor was good, Maggy. She was also very courageous; do you know what that means?"

Maggy nodded. "It… It means she was never scared. Right?"

"Not even a little." Ashley smiled and kissed her forehead. "Courage is when you are scared to death of something – so scared that you're afraid of doing something – but you do it anyway. We lived in peaceful times, but when wars came to our people, your greatest-grandmother took up sword and dagger to keep her sisters safe. She even learned to use a bow, even though she had always said that she would never touch one."

"I don't wanna be like a mean goddess, though… A-And I can't fight…" Maggy whimpered a little.

"Morgana wasn't mean to everyone; not the human _or_ the goddess. My sister made a mistake here and there. Everyone does."

"Like… Like when I stay up late and draw sometimes?"

Stitches nodded. "You know you're not supposed to, but you do it anyway. It's bad, but it's not _super bad._ That's how Morgana was." She stroked Maggy's long, black hair. "In fact… Would you like to see her?"

"Is she like you?!" Maggy's eyes lit up suddenly, and she began looking around as if she expected to see her foremother right there, in the room with them.

"No." Stitch Witch produced her memory box. "But I can let you see her anyway. Just hold onto my arm, okay?"

Maggy scooted close and wrapped her arms around one of Ashley's arms, looking ready to make some sort of giant leap through time. In a sense, she was, Ashley supposed with a smile. She opened the box and, after a bit of searching through the items, pulled out a blue feather.

The walls and floors broke away and changed midnight to early noon. Maggy looked around at the trees, in awe of how they still looked the same as they did today. "Is this the past?" she asked, uncertain.

"Of course. And, see? There's me." Stitch Witch pointed to a blonde tot, red highlights just beginning to show in her hair. She was wearing an old-fashioned dress with an apron, which she was using to hold seeds.

Baby Stitches tossed some of the seeds and bread crumbs on the forest floor, giggling as little birds flew down to feed. Her brilliant blue eyes looked around in wonder at the huge flock of tiny creatures.

Suddenly there was thumping, and a bunch of boys came crashing by, laughing and jeering at one another. They sent the birds scattering and their feet kicked dirt up on the little toddler. She screamed and tried to cover her eyes and mouth.

"Hey! It's the cursed brat!" one of the younger boys exclaimed, then ran over and knocked her down. "Hey, what d'your sisters call you? Stupid? C'mon, Stupid – tell us what you're doing out here! Killed your own mum, right?"

"You're gonna wish ya hadn't done that, Eddie!"

Just as 'Eddie' began to wonder why his older, German friends would say such a thing in contrast to how everyone spoke of the child, a loud shout could be heard. Seven-year old Morgana stormed through the trees, having been nearby feeding the birds with her other two sisters. Dark curls surrounded the child's beautiful, sun-kissed face like storm clouds, and her angry brown eyes blazed red in the light.

Again, magic had once been very tangible to humans.

"You! English brat! What d'you think you're doing with your filthy, prissy-boy hands on my sister?!" Morgana shrieked. All at once, she pounced on poor Eddie and began slapping him anywhere she could. "Well, you little English filth?! Only me and my sisters can pick on her! She's in _our_ family, _not_ yours! I would _die_ if I had a speck of English in me! Not so nice when some stranger's picking on _you_ for no reason, is it?!"

Yelling as if he were being skinned alive, Eddie managed to break free of Morgana and ran away. The other boys ran after him, asking him if he was crying.

Morgana huffed as her other two sisters came traipsing into the clearing. The blonde, Bridget, asked, "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Stupid stuff. I hope that English brat's family leaves soon."

"He's always saying stuff about Germans being dogs, isn't he?" The brunette, Epona, frowned and crossed her arms. "Well, I hope you whipped 'im good. I still can't believe that Mom and Dad named _me_ after one of _their_ goddesses. Do I look like a horse to you?!"

"Oh, shut up, Epona." Morgana turned to Ashley, giving her youngest sister a scathing look. Ashley drooped her head, trying to disappear. Finally, Morgana sighed and picked the tot up. "Ugh! C'mon, Stupid – let's get you cleaned up. Next time those idiots come around, you're _supposed_ to come and find us! Why _didn't_ you this time?!"

"Boo-bird." Ashley pointed at the mess of bird feed, dirt and feathers. "My boo-bird, Mora!"

Morgana glanced at the mess, then plucked up a blue feather. "Blue birds. That's right; you like blue, don't you?" She frowned and handed it to Ashley. "Here. Don't say I never gave you anything. Let's be getting home. Those dumb boys spoiled our day."

As the scene faded away, the adult Stitch Witch gave a wistful sigh and smiled down at the sleeping Maggy, who was cuddled up beside her. "I hope something of that sank in, kiddo." she murmured, setting Maggy back in her bed and tucking her in. "I'll miss you when you're gone."

After turning out the lamp, Ashley started to climb out of Maggy's window, when a voice above her said, "So you've always had to take a lot of roughness from others, huh?"

She gave a self-muffled yelp and stumbled, almost falling from the side of the house. When no one was immediately visible, she clambered up to the roof and glared at Jack. "Sneaking up on me doesn't count if I'm in the middle of a _story,_ Frost."

"Looked more like a trip down memory lane to me." He smirked, then shrugged as she walked over to sit beside him. "Were your sisters really mean to you?"

"Oh, yeah. _All_ the time. That was the first memory of my oldest sister being _nice_ to me that I can recall. I've got ones for the other two, but they weren't _nearly_ as shocking to me as that one was when it happened."

"Really?" Baby Tooth flitted from Jack's shoulder to Stitch Witch's. Tooth had joined them. "Why was Morgana's so surprising?"

"Because Morgana hated me like Pitch hates Jack." Ashley smiled vacantly. "Everything that went wrong in the world was because of me. Bridget and Epona would get mad from time to time, but Morgana was, well… she wasn't afraid to _hit,_ as you could see. I think that as we got older, it drove her crazy that she was the one person that I wouldn't raise a hand to. Well, her, plus Bridget and Epona, but they weren't get-in-the-middle-of-it types. I never stood up to them when they turned on me, though."

Both Tooth and Jack looked at one another, then at her. _"Why?"_

"They were my older sisters. Even if they didn't love me, I loved them." She shrugged. "The abuse wasn't without its drawbacks, of course, because I ended up hurting a lot of people who tried to love me. Boyfriends, girlfriends, parental figures… But, luckily, I was taught how to put it behind me and learned to live without the approval of my sisters. I became beloved, my sisters married me off to Pitch, there was a fire, and here we are now!" She grinned broadly at them.

"But doesn't it…?" Tooth was cut off as Jack put a hand on her shoulder and tried to discretely shake his head.

Stitch Witch caught the move and laughed. "Yes, Tooth, it does make me sad; and thank you, Jack, for thinking that I would be sensitive about it. But, it's like I told Maggy – in the end, I forgave my sisters, and we all thought fondly of one another. They were exiled, but I protected them until they reached another town. They opened a stall for flowers and perfumes, Morgana became a sort of 'warrior princess' long before Xena was a thought… I will admit that the Bubonic Plague was a rough way for them to go, though…"

"Wait, the _Bubonic Plague?"_ Tooth covered her mouth and looked at Jack.

He looked just as confused as Stitches. "What? What's so great about that plague? People were still getting sick all the time when _I_ was still human!"

"The Bubonic Plague was the _Black_ Death, Jack!"

His eyes widened slightly. "…Oh."

"Oh? What's _'Oh'?_ I thought that the Black Death was a name that the _humans_ came up with." Stitch Witch pried.

"It was started by _us,_ though… Those of us who were around at the time, anyway. Pitch perfected it and figured out how to spread it to humans he didn't like. Everyone else was a casualty, but it still fed into his power. It was before my time, but there are those who think that Pitch actually _made_ the Black Death. Humans kept the name because Black Death _resembled_ the Bubonic Plague." Tooth held her hands near her mouth as though she were afraid of the words spilling from her lips. "Stitches… Ashley… I think… I think that Pitch might have _killed_ your sisters."

Ashley stared at the both of them, her face absent of emotion. A gentle breeze stirred the woods around them and a very uncomfortable silence settled in.

Jack was the first to clear his throat. "Uh… Stitches?"

She vanished in a flurry of smoke.

**=^o.o^=**

…Yeah… I habitually _cannot_ allow my characters to have nice things, it seems. This is especially true in fanfiction where I weave OCs in; the canon characters might be all well and good for at least a couple of chapters before mud goes flying everywhere. But _my_ characters? No. Especially if they're involved with a canon character. It's my number two rule for avoiding Mary Sue-ism: Happiness doesn't come cheap.

The number one rule for avoiding Mary Sue-ism? Perfect, flawless characters are both perfect, and flawless. They're also boring.

Issues and conflict make for good reading!

Nyaa!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any rights to The Rise of the Guardians, be it the movies or the book series. I own Stitch Witch (Ashley) and Thorn Morose.

Nyaa.

**=^-.-^=**

**Chapter 11**

"Pitch!"

There were numerous sounds of Ashley's disappearing and reappearing as she searched Pitch's Lair. She was furious and frantic, and that combination of feelings shook her inside.

A number of thoughts flooded through her mind. Had he really had some malicious hand in the deaths of her sisters? Did she care? Of course she cared! She had every reason to be angry at the three of them for the life that they left her to, but she still cared for them, loved them deeply in life and in death. Could she stay mad at him if he had done something that awful? She didn't know the answer to that one; that was what was truly horrible.

Finally, she spotted him near his globe. It gave her a moment of pause, watching him think. He was acting so normal, so calm… She wanted to rush down there and scream at him for what he had done. What he might have done. What he probably had done – _that_ she could settle on for certain. She did rush down, filling her lungs with air.

Rather than scream at him, she ran into him. Before he was knocked off of his feet or anything, however, she had wrapped her arms around his middle and burrowed her face into his back.

"Ashley?" She felt him twist around in her grasp, but she did nothing to make it easier on him. His hands settled on her shoulders. "What's happened?"

She shook her head. She didn't want to explain why she was acting the way she was. She didn't want to accuse him of something this awful. Not when she was starting to feel close to him again. Perhaps she was being childish and scared, but… well… she was a fear-based entity, and her only other company _was_ children.

Pitch caught her chin and managed to lift her face up. The soot around her silvery eyes was damp and smeared, giving her a disheveled look. He brushed the tears aside, his face calmer than what he was feeling. "Please."

The Stitch Witch tried to regain some small measure of her usual careless composure, but quickly gave up on the futile effort. "My sisters caught the plague. That's how they died."

She was staring at him. He wondered if she was desperate for him to tell her she was wrong, or accusing him of having something to do with it. He frowned and placed a hand on her head, stroking the wild, red locks. "I'm sorry. I knew about it, if that's what you're asking. I didn't have anything to do with it, but…" He hesitated. "…I won't lie. I could have prevented it if I really wanted to."

Ashley's eyes got a little wider as she searched his face. His words were cold, full of matter-of-fact sincerity. "You could have… prevented it…"

"I could have made sure that they were immune to it. I could have taken it away once they got the disease. I could have even allowed them to survive it. I just… didn't care to." Pitch gave her a pained look, silently begging her to understand while doing his best not to seem as pathetically desperate as he felt. "I was alone. You had been taken from me. We had both been left to die in a fire! But I swear, I did _not_ seek them out to get infected deliberately."

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. Her expression was blank from the moment he finished his brief explanation until she finally decided to bury her face back in his chest. Her shoulders began shaking, and her body was shuddering; she was crying. Pitch felt an overwhelming wave of pity and guilt – two things he hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

He hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry that I hurt you like this." He rested his chin atop her head. What else could he do? What could he say? He knew what he _wanted_ to do: find whoever had told her that Pitch had had anything to do with the deaths of his three sisters-in-law and kill them very, very slowly, and twice as painfully. He couldn't help himself. He chose his next words carefully. "Have you known for very long?"

"Just now. Tooth and Jack…" Ashley brought up her head and wiped her eyes on the back of her fingerless gloves. She was still sniffling a little. "I don't… I don't think that I want to go up there for a while…"

"You don't have to. You can stay here." He held her face in his hands. "No one will bother you here. You will be safe, and you can rest as long as you want."

She didn't say anything else. She just nodded, and Pitch felt an odd, wild bursting sensation in his chest. He only hugged her back to his chest thanks to the wave of relief that washed over him; it wasn't until a moment later when he realized that this also spared her from spying the almost maniacal grin he got on his face – something that surely would have put her off. But he had to admit it: he was happy that she would not only be staying out of the reach of the Guardians, but she would also be where _he_ could keep an eye on her.

When he thought of her going off to be by herself in this sort of mood… well, he didn't know what to think, really. It just left an unpleasant knot in his belly. She was a creature of extremes when she was human. Who was to say she wouldn't revert to familiar behavior? And with the fantastic abilities that their kind had, and how dark and sinister those abilities could be…

"I have a thought." Pitch looked down at Ashley, who peered up at him miserably. He gave her an uncertain smile, trying to put her at ease. "The fears that you keep bottled up in your domain – there may be a use for them."

She didn't recoil, but she didn't seem happy with the idea, either. "I don't want – "

"Don't misunderstand me. I don't mean to weaponize the phobias that you've held onto. Please… Trust me."

* * *

When Ashley didn't return to her tower within the first week, Tooth was worried. At the end of the second week, she felt scared. At the end of the third week, Tooth Fairy was sitting on the rooftop, sure that her newfound friend had certainly confronted her husband and been destroyed for her trouble.

If only she had kept her big mouth shut. And Jack, too; but mostly her.

Into the last week of the month, her routine was back to normal: busy, busy, busy. She remained at her palace in the sky with her mini-fairies, preserving the memories of children around the world. For a while, things started to return to normal, until one of her fairies came back injured, and with quite the terrible story to tell about how it had been attacked… by a child.

She couldn't believe her ears as the tiny creature relayed its tale to her. The fairy had been on a normal run – one coin, one tooth, and it had known exactly where it was going. It had arrived at the child's house. Exchanging the tooth for the coin had been a breeze. But there had been another child in the room. A child that didn't live there, or anywhere, for that matter, with dark, black hair and pale skin, and the largest yellow eyes that anyone had ever seen. The wicked little boy had attacked the fairy, knocking her out of the child's room. The fairy cried as she tried to apologize; the intruder had taken the tooth and disappeared into the darkness like a shadow in the night.

Soon, more stories were coming in from other fairies, about children losing teeth from getting into fights with one another. Most of the times, the teeth never made it under the child's pillow, and when they did, they described the same little boy.

Tooth was at North's workshop before he even called the other Guardians, and when they spoke, it turned out that the fights had been more widespread than either one of them had known. With the help of the globe, North had discovered that the child had shown up more frequently at the homes of children who had siblings. The boy whispered into ears of children, and fights followed after. Older siblings told younger siblings that Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny weren't real, yet they delighted in torturing their little brothers and sisters of the Boogeyman and how they probably wouldn't make it through the night in one piece. Granted, Pitch had never hurt a child beyond nightmares, and even the occasional night terror, but that didn't stop the stories and some well-timed pranks between siblings, cousins, and even friends at sleepovers from trying to scare one another in cruel ways.

Once all five of the Guardians had been gathered and everyone was on the same page, no one had anything to say. It was just… strange.

Bunnymund was the one to break the silence. "Well, it's got to be one of two things, way I see it. Either he finally got to her and convinced her that she's got to be as much about fear and cruelty as he is, or he's bumped her off."

"How could you say that?!" Tooth sputtered. Her face, however, gave away that she feared the same. "Pitch Black _is_ a monster, but he wouldn't… I mean, he couldn't… He cared about her! He really did! Right?!"

Jack put his hands up, trying to calm her down. "Look, Tooth, just in case he _did_ do something to… to hurt her, we need to be careful about what we do next."

Tooth's lower lip trembled and she seemed to wilt slightly. Both of them missed their fellow Guardians looking between them curiously.

"Alright." Bunnymund crossed his arms and glared pointedly at Jack. "What'd you two do?"

"What? What're you looking at me for?!" Jack snapped.

"You both seemed convinced that Ashley is dead or hurt." North noted. Beside him, Sandy nodded. "Even if you don't think that Pitch _would_ be able to convince her to harm children through the spreading of fear, usually a hopeful heart would at least want to go with the option in which their friend was _alive._ It is strange; that's all."

"So, again: _What'd you two do?"_ Bunnymund repeated.

"The _least_ you could do is leer at Tooth like that, too, and not just me." Jack pointed out with a huff.

Tooth raised her hand hesitantly. "W-We were talking with her just a few weeks ago, and she told us that her sisters had died after catching the Black Death, and we may… have informed her that _Pitch_ was responsible for another version of the Black Death that had all of the physical symptoms of the disease."

"She left immediately." Jack finished, rubbing an arm. "We haven't seen her since. We were a little worried that she might've said something or picked a fight with Pitch again, or…"

"Wait, _again?_ What do you mean, _again?!"_ Tooth gave Jack a terrified look.

He winced. "…I saw her before that. Pitch was using his new Sand Spiders for the first time, only instead of fighting with him, I used his portal to look for Ashley in his Lair. He had drained her once already because she _said_ she'd picked a fight with him. She said that he would have killed her if he'd meant to; like he was just trying to take all of the strength that she'd had stored up. But, personally…" The young Guardian rubbed the back of his neck. "…Personally, I think that he tried to kill her and it didn't work, or maybe he caught himself at the last minute. I don't think that someone like Pitch _can_ love, and considering how much he hates us for keeping him from destroying the world? How much Ashley tries to get along with us? We all agreed that especially for a fear entity, she wasn't a bad person. Dang it… I knew I should have dragged her out of there when I had a chance!"

"I don't think Pitch _did_ kill her." Bunnymund spoke up. "Maybe he tried; maybe his temper got the better of him; but, much as I hate to admit it, I'd like to believe that even Pitch Black has a soft spot in his heart somewhere. Provided he has a heart, of course."

"He does, for her." North stroked his beard thoughtfully. "…I remember every name of every child that has ever been on my lists. There are lists for each age, each country, even each century… Today, I found a new name on one of these lists – one for Germany, and it was from a time before even Sandy and I were Guardians! The lists only last as long as the children on it are still children that can believe, and then they disappear."

Jack frowned. "You think that this is the kid that's been harassing children and stealing the teeth from Tooth's fairies?"

The elder Guardian nodded. "But, more than that, I had to wonder why the boy's name would be on a list from a year long since passed _centuries_ ago. Now I think that, maybe, on the night their home burned, Ashley may have been carrying a child – and if she was, Manny would not have let this child fade away or die when he turned its parents."

"But… But where's it been all this time? That little boy isn't exactly a toddler, so it's not like she could have been 'carrying' it for all this time!" Tooth pointed out.

"Coulda been in her domain." Bunnymund speculated. "Think about it. Yeah, there's a lot of chaos going on in there, but none of it can hurt anyone, either. Maybe it found a fear to latch onto for its own power. His dad's the Boogeyman that causes nightmares, and his mum's a… a _trickster_ who manipulates fears and then takes them away for herself; could be that the little bugger just needed a specific blend of powers… or just needed his parents to find him in there."

* * *

Couples were strange things – watching two humans care about each other was intriguing. His parents were different, as far as being a couple went. They cared about one another. They also carried more pain with them. Perhaps that was why he preferred them to human couples; when humans got angry with their mate, there was screaming and fighting, sometimes in front of their young. In his short life, he had yet to see that, and he naturally looked for it.

It was his nature to turn people against one another, and his whispers only worked on children… most of the time. He had whispered in the ears of adults. Sometimes the action got him some astounding effects.

"Thorn, where have you been?"

The Morose child turned his head at the sound of his mother's voice just in time to be picked up. With a small smile, he let himself be held, even cuddling close to Stitch Witch. He loved his parents. They kept him safe, got mad when he slipped away unnoticed – something he had seen other, human parents do, but their children weren't as smart as Thorn was. Human children were nasty and stupid creatures, selfish and blind from the moment they were born.

Ashley frowned, playing with the wild strands of his midnight black hair. "Hey. I asked you a question, little one."

He gazed at her innocently with his large, yellow eyes. "I love you, Mommy." he cooed.

Her brow furrowed at him mildly. He couldn't fool her, but at least he could entertain her; a smile was tugging at her lips, although she wouldn't let it win just yet. "You need to stay with us, Thorn. The world is dangerous for our kind, and you're not strong enough yet. If you're going to go on adventures, you need to at least make sure that it's with your father or me."

He pouted and acted put out. Now she grinned, chuckling lightly. "Don't try to act so hurt with me. In this family, there's nothing more common than a manipulative nature."

**=^o.o^=**

Good Ness, I've been off for far too long! I'm sorry that I dropped off like that. Hopefully, you humans can be slated with this update, and my sincerest apologies!

Nyaa!

*puffs up tail and runs away*


End file.
